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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29306112">Fire And Rain</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhioExPat/pseuds/OhioExPat'>OhioExPat</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fire And Rain [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Facts of Life</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Explicit Language, F/F, Homelessness, Lesbian Character, Substance Abuse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-09</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-05-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:02:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>35,832</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29306112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/OhioExPat/pseuds/OhioExPat</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After a terrible fight over Jo's sexuality, Jo Polniaczek's parents give her an ultimatum. Facing the abandonment of her family for being who she is, she also doesn't think she can tell the one person who she loves more than anyone else in the world-that's because that one person is her roommate in college.</p>
<p>Seeing no other alternatives, Jo makes a fateful decision.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jo Polniaczek/Blair Warner</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Fire And Rain [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2152476</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Forward</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>In the United States, there are no firm estimates on how many LGBTQ people make up the ranks of the homeless. Some studies have said it's as high as 17%. For youths, the number may be as high as 40% of the youth homeless population. Many were thrown out of their own homes because of their sexual orientation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am a straight male. I've been married 33 years, and have 3 wonderful adult children. I can't even imagine a parent throwing a child out of their home, or disowning them, because of how they love. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you know, or are someone in the United States who has been made homeless because of your sexual orientation, contact <b>True Colors United</b> at their website, <a href="https://truecolorsunited.org/">https://truecolorsunited.org/</a> or call them at<b> 212-461-4401</b></em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I have added lyrics to several songs at the beginning of every chapter. Many you probably know. Some you may not. I have included a link to the Playlist for this story on YouTube.</p><p>https://youtube.com/playlist?list=PLCBF0ydO8AFKqTpN62aLsW9vUVDn1owdt</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Prologue</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Won't you look down upon me, Jesus?<br/>You've got to help me make a stand<br/>You've just got to see me through another day<br/>My body's aching and my time is at hand<br/>And I won't make it any other way</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I've seen fire and I've seen rain<br/>I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end<br/>I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend<br/>But I always thought that I'd see you again</em>
</p><p>“<em>Fire and Rain”, by James Taylor </em></p><p> </p><p>Warner Tower, New York City, 1997</p><p> </p><p>“<b>Therefore, I am pleased to introduce to you</b>, the new Vice-President of Corporate Finance for the Warner International Corporation, Blair Warner.”</p><p>David Warner, CEO of The Warner International Corporation, one of the wealthiest and most powerful companies n the world, stepped away from the microphone, clapping as he watched his only child, Blair, fulfill what was, for David Warner, a life-long dream of seeing his heir ascend to the top ranks of the company his father had built. Blair had been groomed for this position-and eventually to be President, and then to succeed her father as CEO, since the day she was born.</p><p>As he stepped away, Blair moved toward him, David wrapping her in a hug, and kissing her cheek. He had not been the greatest father in the world, he knew that. He and his ex-wife, Monica, who was Blair's mother, had shuffled Blair off to one private school after another in her still-young life, both of them too busy to attend much to their daughter-David, because of his drive to attain wealth and power, and Monica, because she was too busy bedding every man she had her eye on.</p><p>Yet David has always played by the rules, and had run as ethical a business as he could, which was a departure from his father, who had not only been unscrupulous in his business practices, but had even been a member of the Ku Klux Klan. David had spent most of his adult life changing the very fabric of what was originally Warner Textiles, now the Warner International Corporation.</p><p>As Blair Warner stepped up to the microphone, dressed in an expensive (of course), gray pin-stripe pencil skirt and matching jacket, with a light blue polyester blouse, she exuded confidence and charm, something instilled in her, but something that came to her naturally. He was proud of her, as she glanced around the gathering of employees and media, many who were also clapping and smiling at the new company Vice-President.</p><p>She turned to look at her father just before speaking again. She still had the broad, beautiful smile on her face, and seemingly beamed at her father.</p><p>But David Warner wasn't fooled.</p><p>Five years earlier, something had forever altered his daughter, and she had never quite been the same. The smile on her face hadn't reached her eyes in those five years. She had buried herself in the company, not letting anything else enter her life since that fateful day.</p><p>Blair Warner's face looked happy, but when her eyes caught her father's, they only said one thing to David Warner.</p><p>
  <em>I wish I knew where Jo was, Daddy. I miss her.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Phoenix, Arizona, One Year Earlier</p><p> </p><p>The brunette with green eyes huddled near the fire that she shared with a few others on the outskirts of Phoenix. She had become accustomed to such a fetid lifestyle over the past four years, a style that she had chosen of her own volition.</p><p>The green eyes had once sparkled with fire and drive, but were now faded and void of any hope. She had once been a strong, sinewy young woman-athletic, active, full of nervous energy. As she munched down on a sandwich that she had received at a local homeless shelter, one couldn't help but notice how bony her arms were, her eye sockets sallow and sad.</p><p>She was once a Valedictorian at her exclusive Prep School in New York State: a former gang leader from the concrete jungle of The Bronx, who had been shaped by a hardscrabble existence, before her incredible intelligence had given her a true chance to leave those streets.</p><p>Now? Now she just survived, sleeping under overpasses or in alleys, or, occasionally, if there was room, in one of the homeless shelters nearby. Survival meant relying on soup kitchens, and those same shelters for a little bit of food and water. It means using, and sometimes even trading drugs, and binging on alcohol to numb the pain in her mind and body that had descended on her a little more than four years earlier.</p><p>It meant wearing old clothes that were picked up occasionally at a homeless shelter, or maybe the Salvation Army, just enough to keep her thinning frame covered. She had never been into fashion, but her current life took her rejection of such things to a ridiculous degree.</p><p>Surviving meant moving from city to city every few months, because she didn't want to be found, not staying long enough to let anyone really get to know her, but long enough to add to her collection of phony driver's licenses, with different names on them.</p><p>Surviving meant drinking bad booze to forget her pain, and even taking drugs to escape her reality. She still had some of the money she had gained when closing her bank account in New York, but most of that had been stolen from her in the rough-hewn world she now existed in. She still had enough so that she could hop on a train or bus when it was time to move to another location. She had been in Phoenix now, for four months, and soon, it would be time to move on again.</p><p>Surviving had meant putting up with torturous heat, as in Phoenix, or out in sub-zero temperatures, or during snowstorms, like in Denver, simply trying to find a way to hold on, and not die because of the elements.</p><p>This was the life of the woman who used to go by the name of Joanna Maria “Jo” Polniaczek. A life that she had chosen when she fled a quite town along the Hudson River, north of New York City, just more than four years ago. She had fled because of who-and what-she was, and had always been. She had fled when she finally declared to her parents, and to the one person that she loved, to this day, more than any other on the face of the Earth, who she was and what she felt, and had been rejected out of hand by all three.</p><p>It had broken Jo Polniaczek: not just her heart, but everything that she once had been and had aspired for.</p><p>Later, as she had fallen into another night of wary, nightmare-filled sleep, the images she saw haunted her and would not let her go: of her parents, of the life she had lived, and, most vividly, of the woman she would always, desperately love. She always woke up in a cold sweat, tears running down her face, each tear representing it's own bitter regret.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>I</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>You and I must make a pact<br/>We must bring salvation back<br/>Where there is love<br/>I'll be there (I'll be there)</em>
</p><p><em>I'll reach out my hand to you</em><br/>I'll have faith in all you do<br/>Just call my name and I'll be there (I'll be there)</p><p>“<em>I'll Be There”, The Jackson 5</em></p><p> </p><p>Five Years Earlier, Langley College, Peekskill, New York</p><p> </p><p>“<b>Jo, come on, we're gonna be late for English Lit</b>!”</p><p>Blair Warner, the heir apparent of Warner International Corporation, rolled her eyes, waiting for her best friend, Jo Polniaczek. It was usually Jo yelling for Blair at the start of the day, as the debutante was usually preening and making sure everything was just so when she walked out to greet the world.</p><p>“Oh, for cryin' out loud, Blair”, the Bronx native replied, heading out of her bedroom, “I'm a little behind one time, and you're all over my case! Geez!”</p><p>“Really Jo”, Blair said, tossing her long, thick blonde hair, “I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about?”</p><p>Jo caught the commencement of a smirk at the corners of Blair's lips, making the former gang member roll her own eyes. But she laughed at the end of it. No matter what, she could never stay mad at Blair, despite how different they were. “Yeah, yeah, blondie, you're always ready in ten minutes flat every freakin' morning.” As she moved by Blair toward the door to their shared apartment, she nudged her, with a smile and a wink, letting her best friend know it was all in fun.</p><p>It was a beautiful spring day at Langley, nestled along the Hudson River. It was only a month until the end of their Sophomore year at the very exclusive college. Langley was a college that the rich and powerful sent their children to school, usually after finishing up at either Eastland School, or Bates Academy for boys. There were rumors that the two schools would be combined in the near future, but that hadn't been decided yet. Pretty much everyone Jo and Blair had known at either Eastland or Bates was now at Langley.</p><p>Blair was being groomed to one day take over for her father at Warner International, formerly known as Warner Textiles, just as David Warner had been groomed for where he was now by his father. It was simply part of the “circle of life”, for many who were rich and powerful: be raised within society, get a first-class education, marry someone who also had excellent pedigree, and have offspring that would go through the same thing-to be bred to be wealthy and to hold power that few in the world had.</p><p>Joanna Marie Polniaczek was from the complete opposite end of the spectrum: born and raised in The Bronx, in a poor neighborhood, she was the product of the street gangs that roamed New York City, groups of boys and girls looking to build an empire far smaller than the one Blair would inherit, and one that certainly wouldn't lead to wealth. Jo had been leader of the Young Diablos street gang. She had been involved in more than a few scrapes, some which had left both physical and emotional scars on her.</p><p>How the two, with so different upbringings, with such different personalities and outlooks on life, had become the best of friends had amazed them and everyone else they had known since Jo first arrived at Eastland. They still fought constantly, but it did not have the bitter class warfare-type feel to it that it once held. Now, it was simply because they enjoyed the arguments. They enjoyed pushing each others' buttons. Yet if anyone threatened the other, the were taking their very life into their hands.</p><p>Langley, like both Eastland and Bates, were made up almost completely with children from wealthy families, like the Warner's, the St. Clair's, the Worthington's, as well as children of diplomats, and even foreign leaders from across the globe. Blair was perfectly at home in this upscale, fast-paced social environment. She was expected to act like she owned the place, and she often gave off that very air.</p><p>It had been something that Jo had trouble adapting to from the moment she arrived at Eastland, running over Mrs. Garrett's magnolia's in the process. She came from a blunt, dangerous world, where acting like Blair Warner would get you in serious trouble. It wasn't about social status-it was about survival. Blair knew how to negotiate herself out of certain situations. Jo, on the other hand, oftentimes used foul language and her fists to work out disagreements.</p><p>Yet they both cared deeply for each other. Blair spent many a day over the years, defending her best friend from the aristocratic crowd, even when she seemed to join them occasionally in their disdain for the tough tomboy. Jo would do anything to protect Blair from any guy she felt wasn't good enough for the blonde. The fact was, Jo didn't think <em>any</em> man was good enough for Blair Warner.</p><p>And that's where her problem lay. It was not just a problem, but went to the very core of who Jo Polniaczek was. It was something that she had tried to keep hidden since she first entered puberty, and, try as she might, was something she couldn't change.</p><p>Years earlier, Jo had kissed her best friend at the time, Gloria. Gloria's mom had caught them, and literally banished Jo from her daughter's life, informing Jo's mother, who was a devout Roman Catholic, of the transgression. Rose and Charlie Polniaczek, while divorced, had united against Jo in expressing their anger that she would do such an immoral thing, and that she had to purge herself of such sins.</p><p>She and Gloria still found time to meet clandestinely, usually on the roof of their tenement. Yet Gloria's mother had continued to berate her daughter to the point where, one day while sitting on the roof together eating lunch, Gloria had simply walked to the edge of the building, and jumped off, much to Jo's horror.</p><p>Jo had never recovered from that.</p><p>Yet it steeled her mind that she would not try to be something she wasn't, even as she was determined not to tell another living soul about it. So she hid her sexuality under the cover of her tough, no-nonsense persona, which, if anyone had looked, made her stand out even more. But it served to deflect any and all musings about the fact that Jo was a lesbian.</p><p>Then she had met Blair, and, in under two years, she had gone from almost hating the slightly older, sometimes infuriatingly snobbish girl, to falling madly, hopelessly in love with her, wanting the curvy, buxom blonde for herself, but knowing, for a multitude of reasons, that it never could be. Jo, a lesbian, courting the boy-crazy Blair Warner? Preposterous! Jo, the juvenile delinquent and gang leader, being a love interest for the girl that one day would probably be a billionaire? Outlandish.</p><p>So, as she had done for years, she hid it best she could. She simply wanted to be with Blair, and she reasoned that she'd rather have Blair as her friend, than not have her in her life at all. The latter, Jo knew, would rip her heart out.</p><p>“What are you doing after class tonight, Joey?”</p><p>Jo blushed every time Blair used that corny nickname on her. “Princess, why don't you just call me 'barbarian', or 'my delinquent', like you do, instead of Joey. I feel like a Kangaroo when you say that.”</p><p>Blair snorted a very unlady-like laugh at Jo's turn of phrase.</p><p>“Anyways, I do have to study some more for that Econ test, then I have field hockey practice until about 7. I'm free after that. Watcha' got in mind?”</p><p>“I was thinking of going to that new pizza place for dinner-what's the name of that place?”</p><p>“You mean Mancuso's?”</p><p>“Yes, that's it”, Blair said with a wide smile. “I've heard good things about their pizza.”</p><p>“I think that might be fun, blondie”, Jo mused. “Okay, unless something comes up, we'll head over the after I take a shower when I'm done with practice.”</p><p>“It's a date”, Blair said excitedly. “I can't wait.”</p><p>They continued to talk on their way to class, but one thought stayed in Jo's mind.</p><p>
  <em>God, if only I could date you, Princess.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>II</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>
  <em>How do I get through a night without you<br/>If I had to live without you<br/>What kind of life would that be</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, I, I need you in my arms, need you to hold<br/>You're my world, my heart, my soul and if you ever leave<br/>Baby you would take away everything good in my life<br/>And tell me now</em>
</p><p>
  <em>How do I live without you<br/>I want to know<br/>How do I breathe without you if you ever go<br/>How do I ever, ever survive<br/>How do I, how do I, oh, how do I live</em>
</p><p>“<em>How Do I Live”, LeAnn Rimes</em></p><p> </p><p><b>Despite Jo's silence about her sexuality</b>, there had always been rumors and speculation at Eastland about the tough girl's proclivities. At institutions like Eastland and Langley, filled with many snobbish debutantes, who would no doubt receive fortunes when they got older and marry into even more money someday, someone so different from them-like Jo Polniaczek, was cannon fodder for such talk. It also supplied delicious gossip for the young men who went to Bates, then Langley. They, too, were often ruthless in trying to stamp out anyone that didn't fit their idea of society.</p><p>Jo did her best to ignore it. She had grown used, even comfortable, with the sparring between she and Blair over the years. Jo and Blair had come to care deeply for each other, and, despite their sometimes acrimonious verbal spats, they would not tolerate anyone outside of their friendship to demean the other. The “barbarian”, and the “princess”, made for an interesting friendship.</p><p>One could always count on Boots St. Clair, or Dina Becker, or any number of young women, to make condescending, cruel remarks about Jo. Most had learned not to utter such barbs in the vicinity of Blair Warner. They did so among themselves, and among the young men they hung out with, like Brock Worthington and other CEO's in waiting. They all felt they could berate and humiliate someone like Jo, who didn't fit in with their idea of what a person should be.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>They arrived at Mancuso's, noting how packed the restaurant was, with a mixture of students from Langley as well as with residents from Peekskill. The two girls smiled at each other as they took in the scene.</p><p>“I think we might have hit the jackpot, blondie”, Jo said, taking in the smells of Italian cooking.</p><p>“I think you're right, Joey”, Blair said, herself practically drooling over the aromas.</p><p>“Down, girl”, Jo said playfully, seeing Blair's eyes closed and breathing in the scents.</p><p>Blair slapped her lightly on the shoulder. “You're so uncouth, Polniaczek.” She winked at her friend.</p><p>“That's the nicest thing you've ever said to me, Princess”, Jo responded, with a wink of her own. They both laughed as they were led to a table.</p><p>Since the restaurant was only a stone's throw from their shared apartment and had walked, both felt at liberty to order a bottle of wine and split it, as they started with an appetizer of calamari and warm bread sticks. They had ordered a pepperoni, mushroom, and green pepper pizza, the sight of it when it arrived making them look wide-eyed at each other.</p><p>Their animated conversation while they munched down on the pizza was comfortable and easy between them. They knew each other so well, almost able to tell what the other was thinking even before words were spoken. They simply tuned out the noise around them, enjoying each other's company.</p><p>“Professor Popovich reminded me that we still have two weeks to finish that assignment we're doing together for Economics. I thought it was due next week.” Jo took another satisfying bite of her pizza.</p><p>“I thought it was next week, too?” Blair looked a little flustered at that. “Did we write down the wrong date, Jo?"</p><p>“Nah, I don't think so. I think we just got busy with everything else, that the date just slipped our minds.”</p><p>“Speaking of dates...you two are a sight.”</p><p>The two girls froze, hearing the familiar, infuriating voice of one of their biggest antagonists.</p><p>Blair looked up first, meeting the eyes of her one-time friend. “Dina, what do you want?”</p><p>Dina simply snickered at Blair's question. “I'm still wondering why you hang out with this lowlife dyke, Warner? Not the best look for Daddy's Little girl, is it?”</p><p>Dina Becker was the second child of James and Priscilla Becker, owner of Becker Industries, one of the fiercest and bitter rivals of the Warner's. Dina and Blair had started at Eastland together, and before they had an idea of how the business world worked, they had been friends at a young age. As they grew into their teenage years, the family rivalry turned Dina against Blair, who had never wanted to allow family business to cut into their friendship.</p><p>Yet Dina was as conniving and as ruthless as her old man was. James Becker had been brought up on insider trading charges years ago. As was usually the case, however, his money and a phalanx of high-paid lawyers had gotten him off the hook, even though it was well-known within the business world that he was guilty as hell of the charges.</p><p>Blair knew her own father, David, had some of that shark in him as well-you had to have a streak of ruthlessness to climb into the business empires of the world, but David Warner had always done his level best to stay as ethical as humanly possible. Blair was aware he did so imperfectly, but he wasn't a man willing to sell out everything he believed in for a few extra dollars. It was one reason why David had divorced Blair's mother, Monica. Monica had few morals herself, especially when it came to living a fast and loose life. Blair loved her mother, but was trying to follow the better example of her father.</p><p>Beyond all that, if there was one person Dina Becker hated more than Blair Warner, it was Jo Polniaczek.</p><p>“Not a good look to have a daddy that's a thief, eh Dina?”</p><p>Blair didn't turn her eyes from Dina as Jo taunted her with that reply. It had obviously brought Dina up short.</p><p>“Fuck you, you carpet muncher”, Dina spat back.</p><p>Jo started to rise in her own defense.</p><p>“Jo”, Blair commanded, quickly looking at her friend, “don't stoop to her level.”</p><p>Jo stayed standing for a few moments, looking at the other woman standing across from her, then resuming her seat across from Blair. “You're right, Blair, she isn't worth the trouble.”</p><p>“Who isn't worth the trouble?”</p><p>As if on cue, Brock Worthington was standing next to Dina. His family and the Becker's were political and business allies. Brock had tried to get his meat hooks into Blair a few years earlier, Jo making sure he payed a painful price for overstepping his boundaries.</p><p>“Can you believe it, Brock?” Dina looked over at her boyfriend. “The little Bronx gang member saying I'm not worth trouble?”</p><p>“She's worth a helluva more than your sorry ass, Polniaczek. I should thank you however”, the tall, muscular young man said offhandedly. “If it weren't for you, I would have wasted some of my best...assets...as it were, on your precious 'Princess', as you so disgustingly refer to her.”</p><p>“Glad the broken nose was worth it to ya, Brock”, Jo snapped back, not missing a beat. “Still didn't knock any sense into ya.”</p><p>Brock took a brief, menacing step toward Jo, this time Dina stopping him. Dina had only wanted to humiliate the other two women, not get in a possible boxing match with Jo. Despite her snide remarks, she knew how Jo had beaten the stuffing out of Brock, who was almost twice Jo's size.</p><p>“Isn't worth it, Brock”, Dina said, shaking her head. “We've got better things to do with our time.”</p><p>Brock took one more step toward Jo, leaning over her menacingly. “Just remember, dyke, you get out of this school, I'll be hounding you and making sure you get nowhere in life.” He gave her a predatory smile as he stood up.</p><p>“Leave while you can, Little Lord Fauntleroy, or I'll bust your nose again.” Jo's eyes bored in on the man, getting the satisfaction of seeing him momentarily flinch before turning away.</p><p>Other tables had been watching the spectacle, a few still taking disapproving looks at Jo and Blair, even though they had done nothing.</p><p>“I'm sorry about that, Jo”, Blair said softly. “You shouldn't have to put up with that. I mean, hell, you almost got married to Eddie. Why do people keep making fun of you?”</p><p>“Ah, it's OK, Princess”, Jo says dismissively. “Heard it before, and I'll hear it again. When you grow up on the streets like I did, girls can get that rep, even though in reality, if you are like that in The Bronx, it's a fast way to get the shit beat out of you.”</p><p>Blair looked horrified. “Really?”</p><p>“Yeah, really”, Jo said, still nibbling on pizza, as if they were discussing the weather. “Gays and lesbians don't fare well in the old neighborhood.”</p><p>“That's terrible”, Blair said, suddenly losing her appetite. “I mean, I may not understand the proclivity, mind you, but no one should be threatened or harmed because of who or how they love.”</p><p>“Speaking to the choir, Warner”, Jo replied with a nod. “Like I said, it's no big deal. Let's finish up and get back home. We still have some homework to do tonight.”</p><p>Blair nodded, but didn't say anything else.</p><p>For her part, Jo continued to shrug it off, years of practice of hiding who she was and what she was thinking as easy as breathing. Yet deep down, she was wondering how long she could keep up this façade.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Following Friday</p><p> </p><p>Jo had decided to go home to The Bronx that weekend to visit her parents. Rose and Charlie Polniaczek were divorced, but they were more than amicable with each other. It was one of those “we're better off being friends than being married” relationships. Both were devout Catholics, as was Jo, but there was a reason Jo hardly went home to visit them on weekends, going back all those years with her close friendship with a girl named Gloria.</p><p>Rose Polniaczek had truly wanted Jo to get away from The Bronx and get a good education so that she wouldn't end up like she and her ex-husband. Rose could always see that Jo was exceptionally intelligent and curious, but if Jo didn't get outside the influence of her neighborhood, and her past association with the Diablos, Jo would end up like her parents, or even worse.</p><p>There was another reason why Rose and Charlie had decided to send Jo to Eastland after she nearly aced the entrance exam. It was a reason that Jo didn't know for sure, but had always suspected. Adjacent to the Eastland School for Girls, was the Bates Academy for Boys, another upscale, very exclusive boarding school. Rose was certain that Jo could find “Mr. Right” there-a dashing young man of at least some means, who would sweep Jo off her feet, and they would live happily ever after. Rose had always assumed Jo's crush on girls was just a phase, or a fad, and felt it could be “educated” out of her daughter.</p><p>Indeed, every time Jo did go home, her mom would ask her about the latest boys she had met from Bates. It irked Rose that Jo had almost exclusively talked about Blair, Natalie, and Tootie, while at Eastland, and virtually about nothing but Blair now that she was at Langley. Jo simply tried to avoid the subject.</p><p>Jo had a feeling that this coming weekend, she would need to face it, and tell her parents once and for all that she wasn't interested in guys. It was not how she was wired.</p><p>She dreaded the consequences of such a discussion, but knew it had to be done.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>III</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Goodbye my love<br/>Maybe for forever<br/>Goodbye my love<br/>The tide waits for me</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who knows when<br/>We shall meet again, if ever<br/>But time keeps flowing<br/>Like a river (on and on)<br/>To the sea, to the sea</em>
</p><p>
  <em>'Til it's gone forever<br/>Gone forever<br/>Gone forevermore...</em>
</p><p>“<em>Time”, The Alan Parsons Project</em></p><p> </p><p>Saturday Morning, The Bronx</p><p> </p><p><b>Jo had spent a quiet evening</b> back home, after riding her motorcycle from Peekskill back to The Bronx. Her mom had been thrilled to see her, and had put together an excellent home-cooked meal. While eating, they had discussed her classes, while Rose caught her up on the neighborhood and her extended family in the area. Her father couldn't attend the dinner that night, but promised he'd be over the next day so the three of them could talk</p><p>Jo knew the dreaded subject would come up.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Jo!”</p><p> </p><p>Charlie Polniaczek came into the small dwelling with a large smile on his face, opening his arms up for his daughter. “The prodigal daughter returns.”</p><p>Jo blushed at the fuss her father was making. “Pa, for cryin' out loud, I'm thirty miles away, I ain't no prodigal.” The smile on her face belied her words.</p><p>“Thirty clicks is far enough, sweetheart.” He released her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “It's always good when you get home.”</p><p>“You got that right”, Jo agreed. “Ma made me a chicken parmigiana for dinner. Home cookin' is the best.”</p><p>“Why do you think I stay around here, Jo?” Charlie gave a wink in Rose's direction, his ex-wife simply rolling her eyes. “Only place I can get a decent meal for free.”</p><p>Rose smacked him lightly on the top of his head, making all of them laugh.</p><p>They sat down, as Charlie had brought over some wings to munch on for lunch. After Charlie caught her up on his to-do's, the conversation headed in the direction that Jo had feared when she had arrived the night before.</p><p>“So”, Rose said delicately, but looking directly at her daughter, “you said there was a dance a few weeks ago? Did...you meet any eligible bachelors there?”</p><p>Jo tried to joke through it at first. “Every one of 'em is eligible, Ma”, Jo smirked, attempting to keep the conversation light. “None of them are married you know.”</p><p>“I understand that, Jo, but anyone of interest that you can tell us about?”</p><p>Charlie gave a small glance in the direction of his ex-wife, as he always let her take the lead on this subject.</p><p>“Ma, there's a lot of nice guys at Langley, but...”</p><p>“Ah, so there is someone”, her father chimed in, like Jo, trying to make the subject as light as possible. “I knew it.”</p><p>Jo didn't want to lose her cool. “Pa, I've got a lot of male friends, but none of those schmucks interest me, to be honest. Most of them are stuck up idiots.”</p><p>“But surely”, Rose protested, “there has to be at least one decent guy among them.”</p><p>“Ma, we go through this every time I come home”, Jo protested. “I know you and Pa have my best interests at heart, but you simply won't come to terms with the fact that I'm...”</p><p>Rose cut her off loudly. “<em>Don't </em>say it, Joanna Marie! I cannot accept the fact that you like...that you're...”</p><p>“A lesbian, Ma”, Jo demanded. “You can't accept that I'm a lesbian?”</p><p>Rose turned away from her daughter, getting up and looking out the front window. Charlie had seen this movie enough times. He was tired of it.</p><p>“Look, Jo, you ain't no lesbian, for God's sake! You're just confused about what you want, that's all.” Charlie said the words as matter-of-factly as he could. “It's not natural for guys to like guys, or girls to like girl, Jo. The Church teaches us that.”</p><p>“Yeah, I know, Pa”, Jo retorted. “It's all a sin before the eyes of God, and I'm goin' straight to H-E-double toothpicks because of that. I've heard it a thousand times.”</p><p>Rose turned back around. “Then knowing that, Jo, why can't you just...”</p><p>Jo cut her off this time. “<em>Because this is who I am, Ma!” </em>She had stood and nearly screamed the words at her mother. “You can't just snap your fingers and make me like guys, Okay? It doesn't work that way!”</p><p>“Jo, this will ruin your life! You'll be ostracized from The Church, and your friends, some of your family.”</p><p>“I had a friend once”, Jo replied to her mother. “Her name was Gloria. She was like me, and her parents drove her to kill herself for who she was. Is that what you want?”</p><p>That silenced the room for a few long moments. Charlie finally spoke.</p><p>“No, that's not what we want, sweetheart”, he said with a soft voice. Yet within the softness there was something that made Jo's eyes widen. “We want what's best for you.”</p><p>“What's best for me, Pa”, Jo pleaded with him, “is to let me get my education, and find my way and to find out who I want to spend my life with, Okay?”</p><p>“You mean with Blair...is that it?”</p><p>Both Jo and Charlie looked over at Rose. Jo had never mentioned her deep feelings for Blair Warner, but a mother's intuition was hard to beat. It was quite obvious to Rose, although Charlie didn't quite get it.</p><p>“Rose, whaddaya mean by Blair?” Charlie moved closer to her. “You mean Blair Warner?”</p><p>“Oh, Charlie”, Rose said, turning to him in exasperation, “haven't you ever noticed that all Jo talks about is Blair this, and Blair that? She's the focus of everything at Langley as far as Jo is concerned.” The bitterness in Rose's voice was palpable.</p><p>“Is this true, Jo?” Her father looked at her with hard eyes. “You have a...thing for Blair?”</p><p>“I don't want to talk about this any more, Pa”, Jo said angrily.</p><p>“Well, we're gonna discuss it, young lady”, her father said, finally getting angry himself. “Your mother is right, Jo. This...you can't go against The Church on this.”</p><p>“Then I'll leave The Church!”</p><p>That shook her parents, the two of them looking at each other-a look that clearly indicated to Jo that they had been discussing this very subject.</p><p>“If you do that, Jo”, her mother said softly, “you'll leave us no choice.”</p><p>The earnestness in Rose's voice alarmed Jo. “What are you talkin' about, Ma?”</p><p>“Sit down, Jo”, her father demanded.</p><p>“What's going on you guys?” Even with that protest, Jo sat down.</p><p>“Your mother and I discussed this when you were still at Eastland. Back then, before you was eighteen, we discussed sending you to one of them conversion therapy centers. There's one in Virginia.”</p><p>Jo blanched. “You wanted to send me to one of those nuthouses where they pray over you and thought they could make you straight?”</p><p>“Yeah”, Charlie admitted. “We seriously thought about it, Jo. But we can't do that now. You're over eighteen. We don't have parental rights to do that any longer. But if you continue to believe in this foolishness, well, we'll have to take action.”</p><p>Jo couldn't speak, so frightened she was becoming. Rose picked up the discussion.</p><p>“Jo, your father and I have discussed this, at length. Many times. We can't get you to see reason in this-to see what you're doing is a sin against God and The Church, honey. But I need to know something before I go any further: does Blair know about your feelings?”</p><p>Jo came out of her stupor momentarily. “What? Blair? No, I haven't told her. I don't want to lose her friendship, Ma. I'd rather have her as my friend than not at all. She doesn't know.”</p><p>“Very well”, Rose said, her curiosity satisfied. She took a deep breath. “Your father and I decided a while back that, if you persist in this destructive behavior that we'd have no choice but to...” Rose faltered, not able to continue. She looked at Charlie for support.</p><p>“We've decided that if you don't give up your unnatural behavior when it comes to other girls, than we'll no longer pay for our share at Langley, and...”</p><p>“<em>What</em>?”</p><p>“I'm not finished, Jo”, her father said angrily again. “We will no longer pay for your education at Langley, and we'll let Father Kowolski at St. Alben's know about this, and we will ask him to talk to you. If you refuse to change, we will ask him to excommunicate you.”</p><p>Jo was floored. She almost passed out, so frightened she had become.</p><p>“So you...you would actually do this, unless...” She stopped for a moment, then her resolve hardened. “You want me to deny who and what I am? Because you've convinced yourself a bunch of supposedly celibate men, hundreds of years ago, stated it was wrong, so that's it? There's no way I'm talking to Father Kowolski. I refuse to do that.”</p><p>“If you don't, Jo”, her mother said, coming to her own conclusions. “If you don't give up this illusion and this sinful belief, then we'll...we'll be forced to disown you.”</p><p>Jo was trembling now, a combination of anger and fright, mixed in with a sense of overwhelming betrayal. She walked back to the window for a few moments, thinking about Blair, and everything Blair meant to her. How her friendship with Blair meant more to her than her very life. Maybe she couldn't tell Blair how she felt, but she wouldn't live a lie either. She was who she was-a lesbian. It's simply how her mind worked. If she forswore that, she might as well not live at all.</p><p>She turned back to her parents. “I love you two, you know that-with all my heart. But I am who I am. I'm not attracted to guys. I've never been attracted to guys. I don't believe love in any form is a sin, and I refuse to not recognize who I am, and what I am. Whatever I am, I thought I'd always be a daughter you loved. I guess I was wrong.”</p><p>“Jo”, Rose pleaded, “we do love you, sweetie, with all our heart! That's why we can't let you make this mistake. Don't you see that?”</p><p>Jo stared at her mother as if she had two heads. “And you're gonna 'show' your love for me by disowning me? By stopping my education? By outing me to The Church. You call <em>that</em> love?”</p><p>Neither Charlie or Rose spoke, or even looked at their daughter.</p><p>Jo turned and headed toward the kitchen, where her motorcycle helmet and her backpack, which is all she brought with her, were hanging, then re-entered the small dining room.</p><p>“I will always love you, Ma, Pa”, she said looking between them, “but if you can't love and support me for who I am, instead of tryin' to make me live a lie, well, then you've already lost your daughter.”</p><p>Without another word, Jo hurried to the front door, slamming it behind her, then headed back to Peekskill on her motorcycle, tears streaming from her eyes.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Later That Day, Langley College</p><p> </p><p>Blair had just hung up the phone after talking to her latest dating interest, Dan Kerrigan, whose parents were high-ranking government employees in Washington, D.C. He was a fun-loving, extremely handsome, and very much a gentleman. He was a far cry from Brock Worthington, who still acted like a teenager in heat.</p><p>They would be going out on a date later that night, to see a movie, and maybe have dinner afterward. With Jo out of town, Blair needed something to do without her bestie to hang out with.</p><p>Blair was in her bedroom getting ready for her date, when she heard the front door slam, startling her to no end. She wasn't expecting Jo home until Sunday, and...</p><p>“Jo?”</p><p>Blair looked at her best friend with alarm. Her eyes were red and sallow, her cheeks read from what had obviously been tears, the look on her face one of what Blair could only describe as despair.</p><p>“Joey, what's wrong?”</p><p>Jo looked at Blair, who was almost finished getting ready when she had arrived. “You going out tonight, Princess?” Jo desperately didn't want to talk about what she had been through back at home.</p><p>“Uh...yeah, Dan asked me out to a movie and dinner afterward. Jo...what's wrong? Why are you back so soon?”</p><p>“Ah, it was just another of those weekends where Ma and Pa were having problems, so I decided to leave for some peace and quiet.”</p><p>Blair looked at Jo skeptically. “You sure that's all there is? Pardon my language, but you look like hell.”</p><p>Jo actually laughed at that. “Yeah, well, barbarians often look like hell, Princess. But I'm OK. Why don't you finish getting ready for your date?”</p><p>“Joey, if something is wrong, I'll cancel the date to be with you. I'm just worried about whatever it is that's bothering you.”</p><p>Those words stabbed Jo deep in her heart. She knew Blair loved her-as a friend. She knew Blair would do almost anything for her-the pejorative word being <em>almost</em>. Yet Jo was certain if she laid her heart bare to Blair, Blair would reject her professions of love, and she was frightened out of her mind of losing her friend. She had already lost her family this day.</p><p>“Nah, it's good, blondie”, Jo assured her friend. “I'll be fine. I'll get something to eat and pop open a beer, and I'll be good.”</p><p>“You're sure?”</p><p>“Yes, Blair, I'm sure!” The last sentence had come out more angry than Jo had wanted, but for once, she didn't apologize for blowing her top at Blair.</p><p>“Okay, then. I'll go on my date, but when I get home, we are gonna talk about this, Joanna Marie. I hate to see you hurting, you know that.”</p><p>“I know, Blair, thanks”, Jo said, but her heart wasn't in it. Her heart, at the moment, had Blair known, lay in tatters after the ultimatum from her parents.</p><p>Blair finished up getting ready, hugging Jo before she left, Jo wanting so desperately to tell Blair, but letting it go once again, her love unspoken for the beautiful blonde.</p><p>Jo thought the day couldn't get much worse. But she was wrong.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Shortly after Blair had left, Jo had ordered a pizza, and opened a beer to try and relax, her mind still reeling from the day's events in The Bronx. The phone rang, which wasn't unusual in their apartment, Blair being the social butterfly she was.</p><p>“Hello?” Jo used to answer with a “yo”, or “yeah, whaddaya want?”. But Blair had rubbed off on her. Now that they were Sophomores at Langley, and they were nearing entering the real world, Jo had learned some phone etiquette.</p><p>“<em>Polniaczek</em>!”</p><p>Jo knew the voice immediately. “Jesse, girl, what's up?” A smile had cracked over Jo's face, simply hearing the voice of an old friend.</p><p>“<em>Jo, what the fuck happened to you?”</em></p><p>The smile vanished quickly. “What are you talkin' about, Jesse?”</p><p>“<em>Don't give me that crap, Polniaczek. The news is all over the neighborhood 'bout you.”</em></p><p>Jo tried to calm her friend. “Hey, Jess, slow the hell down, what are you talking about?”</p><p>“<em>I heard from your cousin Pauley fifteen minutes ago. What the fuck is this about your parents having Father Kowolski toss you outta the Church, and your parents cuttin' you off?” </em></p><p>Jo turned white as a sheet. She'd only been gone from home for four hours and...</p><p>“Pauley told you that? What the...”</p><p>Jesse cut her off. “<em>Yeah, Pauley said he called him over, your Uncle Sal, and a buncha other family, and your parents were hysterical! Said that you are a dyke and all. Jo, what's going on?”</em></p><p>Jo sat back down, else she might have passed out. “Jesus, they actually did it. They actually cut me off. God...”</p><p>“<em>Jo”, </em>Jesse pleaded, “<em>tell me that it ain't true? Tell me you're not...”</em></p><p>“Not what?” Jo lost her composure at that point. “That I'm somehow not as human, or the same person I was before my parents turned on me? That I'm not gonna be able to finish school now, Jess, because I'm a lesbian?”</p><p>There was silence on the other end for a few long, painful moments.</p><p>“<em>Jo”, </em>Jesse said softly, “<em>I remember 'bout you and Gloria. I thought that was just a phase, a curiosity for ya. You tellin' me you're really a dyke?”</em></p><p>“I'm a lesbian, Jesse”, Jo said, calming some. “I'm the same person I was last time you and I hung out. I'm the same person I was this morning, before my parents threw me under the bus. I'm Jo Polniaczek, your friend.”</p><p>Then the other shoe dropped.</p><p>“<em>Jo, I gotta tell you”, </em>Jesse continued, her voice hardening, “<em>you know what it's like here in the neighborhood. Dykes and fags aren't exactly welcome. It's a good way to get the shit beat outta you or even killed. How can you betray all of us like this?”</em></p><p>“I'm tired of betraying myself, Jesse”, Jo said, trying to keep her temper reined in. “I can't betray myself any longer, or deny what I am. I'm damned if I do, damned if I don't, Jesse, don't you get that? I can't win, whether I'm true to myself, or if I deny what I am to appease my folks.”</p><p>Jo heard Jesse give a sigh on the other end. “<em>I hate to tell ya this, Jo, but everyone, and I mean everyone, doesn't want to see your face around here anymore. They agree with your folks, that you're just doin' this to piss them off. Sal, Pauley, the members of the gang when you were here-they've all heard about it, and they want nothin' to do with no dyke.”</em></p><p>“And what about you, Jesse? You gonna abandon me, too?” Jo knew the answer.</p><p>“<em>Polniaczek”, </em>Jesse said in a voice that sounded like death itself, “<em>if I was you, I wouldn't come back, 'cause I don't wanna be seen with no dyke, and I'm afraid what I and the gang might do to you if you come back. I'd have done the same thing as your folks.”</em></p><p>The line went dead, as Jo put the phone back on the cradle, staring out into nothing, seeing her life disintegrate in real time.</p><p>In quick succession, she received calls from Pauley and her Uncle Sal, basically saying the same thing: her family, and her friends back home, had abandoned her, all because of her attraction to other women.</p><p>She couldn't even cry now. She simply felt this incredible hurt and emptiness, realizing that those she really loved had turned their backs on her, all because of her sexual preference. She had known how her old neighborhood thought about such things-it was one of the reasons she had denied who she really was for so long. Yet she had not expected this wholesale rejection by her family.</p><p>Jo somehow finished the pizza, but couldn't even remember eating it or tasting it. Her whole body was numb. And what was worse, she wasn't sure that if she told Blair that she was a lesbian and where her heart lay, that the blonde wouldn't abandon her as well. It astounded her to think that it would hurt more to lose Blair in her life than her family.</p><p>Jo came to a decision. She quickly stuffed her backpack with some clothes, and some basic toiletries. She tore out two pieces of paper from one of her notebooks that she used for one of her classes, writing furiously on both, leaving one behind on the kitchen table. Taking the other one, she grabbed an envelope, addressed it, and put a stamp on it. She stuffed it in her coat pocket.</p><p>Jo grabbed the helmet for her bike, grabbing the keys as well, and headed toward the front door. She looked back, what was left of her heart breaking into a million pieces.</p><p>Once outside and without looking back, she started her bike, and rode off. Her parents had left her an emergency fund of five grand in case something happened to them. They had put it in a normal bank account, and Jo had added to that account as often as she could over the last five years or so. She had an ATM for the account, and headed to her local bank. All she wanted to do was check to see if she still had access to the account, and, fortunately, she did. But she didn't withdraw any money from the account-at least not yet. She'd do that Monday morning.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>IV</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I can't light no more of your darkness<br/>All my pictures seem to fade to black and white<br/>I'm growing tired and time stands still before me<br/>Frozen here on the ladder of my life<br/><br/>Too late to save myself from falling<br/>I took a chance and changed your way of life<br/>But you misread my meaning when I met you<br/>Closed the door and left me blinded by the light<br/><br/>Don't let the sun go down on me<br/>Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see<br/>I'd just allow a fragment of your life to wander free<br/>But losing everything is like the sun going down on me </em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Don't Let The Sun Go Down On Me”, Elton John</em></p><p> </p><p><b>Dan dropped Blair off shortly</b> after midnight. They were “dating”, but neither of them had done more than kiss the other on the cheek. Right now, they were two close friends, enjoying some time together, nothing more. Neither wanted more than that, if they were honest, but they always had a blast together.</p><p>Blair hung up her jacket, then walked into the dining room, seeing a piece of paper on the table. She quickly picked it up.</p><p>
  <em>Blair, hey, I headed back to The Bronx. I had some disagreements with my folks, and I need to straighten it out. I probably won't be back til Monday. It won't kill me missing one day of class! Talk to ya later, Princess. XO, Jo</em>
</p><p>“Hmpf”, Blair let out. “I guess we'll talk about what's going on later, then.”</p><p>She didn't think anything more of it. Having no plans for Sunday, she decided she would call Mrs. Garrett, and see if she could get together with her second mom, and maybe see Tootie and Natalie as well. She hadn't kept in touch with them as much as she would have liked, but they were always going to be her other family. She smiled at the thought as she readied for bed.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Blair!”</p><p>Edna Garrett, owner of Edna's Edibles in Peekskill, and former house mother at Eastland, opened her arms wide to one of her former students that she loved so much. “You've been away too long, young lady!”</p><p>Blair melted into the hug from her second mother. Truth be told, Blair felt Mrs. Garrett, also known as “Mrs. G. by many, was more a mother to her than her biological mother, Monica Warner. Mrs. Garrett had helped Blair grow immensely, shedding much of her snobbish behavior that she had brought with her to Eastland, lo so many years ago, and had allowed her to discover there was more to the world than money. Blair had to admit that Jo had also influenced her greatly in that regard.</p><p>“Mrs. Garrett!” Blair gave a kiss on the cheek to her mentor. “I'm so sorry I've been so scarce this school year. It isn't by design, but, well, the real world is knocking on the door.”</p><p>Before Edna could get another word out, the two women heard loud footfalls coming down the steps.</p><p>“Blair!”</p><p>“Oh my God, Blair!”</p><p>Natalie Green and Dorothy “Tootie” Ramsey almost ran Blair over as the older girl opened her arms to two of her best friends.</p><p>“Nat! Tootie!” Blair laughed delightedly as they both hugged her simultaneously, kissing them both on the cheeks. “Let me see you guys!” Natalie still looked pretty much the same, but Blair noticed she had lost some weight. But Tootie...Tootie was no longer the little girl Blair had met a few years back. She was growing up, and fast.</p><p>“God, you two look fantastic”, Blair gushed, folding them into another hug. “I guess I can't really call you Tootie any longer, Dorothy”, she said wink. “Gosh, you've grown up this year!”</p><p>Tootie gave her a dismissive wave of her hand. “Blair, I'll always be Tootie to you, don't sweat it.” She hugged her older friend once more.</p><p>“Hey girls”, Mrs. G said as the tumult died down, “I've got some fried chicken in here, why don't you sit down while I serve it?”</p><p>“We'll help you, Mrs. G”, Natalie said, looking at Tootie expectantly.</p><p>“Yeah, right, the good old days are back, waiting hand and foot on Blair.” Dorothy rolled her eyes, but smiled at the blonde, who laughed.</p><p>“The more things change, the more they stay the same”, Natalie said in agreement.</p><p>“Yeah, tell me about it.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>In a few moments all four were at the table in the apartment above Edna's Edibles. The younger girls caught Blair up on their comings and goings, Mrs. Garrett telling her the business was doing well. It warmed Blair's heart to be back with her dear friends. She amended that statement in her head: they were family, not just friends, and she loved them as such.</p><p>When the younger girls had their fill of catching Blair up, it was Natalie-ever the budding journalist-who asked Blair the obvious question.</p><p>“So where's your sidekick, Warner?” Natalie's eyebrows wrinkled up and down. “I thought if you came, Jo would be here, too. We haven't seen her much, either.”</p><p>“If she were here, Nat, I think there's no doubt she would have come. She's in The Bronx this weekend at her folks.”</p><p>Mrs. Garrett sensed Blair wasn't telling them everything. “Something is bothering you about that, isn't it, Blair?”</p><p>The blonde smiled at Mrs. Garrett. “I can never hide anything from you, can I?” Blair became serious. “I'm not sure. Jo left Friday afternoon after our last class, and was supposed to come back this evening. Last night, I was getting ready for a date with Dan, and Jo had come back home.”</p><p>They all noticed the troubled look on Blair's face.</p><p>“What happened, Blair?”</p><p>Blair turned to Tootie, then looked at the others. “I don't know, but Jo looked like hell, pardon my French. She had been crying. Her eyes were read and sallow, her cheeks red as beets. But what really freaked me out is the expression on her face-she looked frightened, and almost devastated, if you ask me.”</p><p>“She hasn't talked to you about it?”</p><p>“No, Nat”, Blair admitted. “When I got home last night, Jo had left me a note saying she had gone back to The Bronx, and would be back some time on Monday.”</p><p>“Trouble with her folks, perhaps?”</p><p>“It could be, Mrs. Garrett. But I've never seen Jo look so lost.” She lowered her eyes for a moment, then looked back up. “I'm really worried about her, guys.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Jo had indeed gone back to The Bronx, but not to visit any of her family or her usual friends. There was one friend that she knew would never turn her back on her, and she went to stay with him. Steve Gregory was about three years older than Jo. They had become friends a number of years back, and had remained close, although few people knew it.</p><p>Steve was gay, something he had told Jo a long time ago. Jo had confessed to him back in the day that she was a lesbian, and the two had always kept an eye out for each other, both knowing what would happen if the area they lived in ever found out about their sexual orientation. They knew it was trouble.</p><p>She had confided to Steve about what had occurred with her parents that morning, and the reaction from Jesse and other members of her family. Steve already knew how much Jo loved Blair Warner, and her secret had stayed within him, knowing how important that was to Jo.</p><p>She didn't want anything from Steve, save a place to stay Saturday and Sunday night, but she did have a request of him.</p><p>“You still friends with that guy who does forgeries?”</p><p>Like Jo, Steve had once been in a gang, but had pulled himself out of that life, for obvious reasons, but he still had connections.</p><p>“Yeah, why?”</p><p>“Can you contact him, and see if on Monday we can go in and get me a forged Driver's License?”</p><p>“Yeah, we can do that.” Steve eyed Jo carefully. “What's going on, Polniaczek?”</p><p>“I can't tell you Steve. The less you know, the better. You already know my family has thrown me under the bus. I can't go any further than that. Can you do this for me?”</p><p>He nodded. “Yeah, I can do that, Jo. You know I've always got your back.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Monday morning before heading over to his contact's apartment, Jo had Steve drive her to a branch of the bank that her emergency funds had been stashed in by her parents. Through some of the jobs she had had while in Peekskill, Jo had added to the amount over the last five years-not a lot, but it wasn't what she considered chump change, either.</p><p>Before going in, she went to the ATM machine out front, to make sure again that the account hadn't been closed. She was twenty-one, and while that meant that the account was hers, she had been worried her parents would get to it and keep her away from it.</p><p>She asked the teller than the account be closed, the teller informing her that there was $7,371 in the account. The teller looked at her skeptically when Jo asked for it in cash, and not a check, but the teller put the transaction through without another thought.</p><p>Jo put the money in her purse, which had a zipped compartment, then she walked out of the bank. She then asked Steve to take them back to his place before going over to get the fake ID.</p><p>Jo excused herself, going into one of the two bathrooms. Steve wondered what she was up to, as she was in there for forty-five minutes. When she emerged, Steve had to do a double take: Jo had cut her hair very short, and had dyed it a sandy blonde shade, far removed from her long hair and her natural dark brown hair color.</p><p>“Jo”, he said, with some conviction behind his voice, “you're up to somethin'. If I didn't know you had walked into the bathroom, I wouldn't know it was you comin' out of it. You don't change your looks for no reason, kid.”</p><p>“Steve, again, you know I love ya, but please, don't ask any questions. Let's go get the phony ID, and then I'll be outta your hair, okay?”</p><p>Steve didn't like it, but nodded. He wouldn't betray his friend.</p><p>It didn't take long once they were at his friend's place for Jo to have the fake license. The photo with her new look was on it. It was valid for four years from the birth date that had been included. It wasn't Jo's real birthday, and it wasn't Jo's name that adorned the Oregon Driver's License. Jo didn't plan to have to use it for four years.</p><p>After they left, she and Steve had a quiet lunch, then Jo told him it was time for her to leave. Steve had an idea what Jo was doing, but again didn't comment. Jo's family had just thrown her under the proverbial bus, and he wasn't about to to that himself.</p><p>He saw Jo to the door as she went to take her leave. “Jo, I don't know exactly what you're up to, but I know it's a big deal”, he said sadly. “Whatever is going on, you take care of yourself, you hear me?”</p><p>She gave Steve a sudden, fierce hug, tears starting to come out of her eyes, not wanting to let go of her friend. She knew once she drove away, she was taking an irrevocable turn in her life, and needed the comfort for a few more minutes.</p><p>When she finished, she smoothed out his shirt, that had her tears on it. “You look after yourself, too, Steve. You know I'll always love ya. Oh, by the way, can you mail this letter maybe on Wednesday?”</p><p>He looked at the name and address on the letter, his heart skipping a beat, then he bent down and gave her a kiss on the cheek. Jo turned, again without a backward glance, and closed the door behind her.</p><p>“Vaya con dios, my friend”, he said in a whisper to himself.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>That Evening</p><p> </p><p>Blair was concerned when she arrived home from classes that afternoon, with Jo still not anywhere to be found. When she arrived, she did notice there was one message on the answering machine. She hit “play”.</p><p>“<em>Hey, Princess, it's me, Jo. I'm gonna be here for until the end of the week, as there's some issues with my folks. If you could make sure to get the homework assignments, I'll make sure to get up to speed when I'm back, Okay. Stay outta trouble, blondie!”</em></p><p>For the rest of the week, Blair tried to get through the week without her best friend. But Blair Warner was damn worried. Something wasn't right. She could feel it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Friday Afternoon</p><p> </p><p>Blair came home from her classes that day, hoping that Jo would show up, so she could stop worrying. As was her routine, she grabbed the mail in the enclosed box in the lobby of their complex, and went back up to their apartment.</p><p>Blair changed her clothes, and, as with her normal routine, put on a fresh pot of coffee, then sitting down with a cup, drinking the dark liquid while reading the mail.</p><p>There were some bills, and credit card offers for both she and Jo, those being quickly discarded. The last envelope was hand-written, with Blair's name on it, but no return address. She did notice the postage mark said “<em>New York City</em>.”</p><p>It took her a moment, looking at the handwriting, trying to place it. Then, like a load of bricks falling on her, it suddenly hit her. “That's Jo's handwriting”, she exclaimed out loud. Blair tore into the envelope, unfolding the paper, and reading the contents:</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Blair;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>By the time you get this, I don't know where I'll be. I'm sorry I had to lie to you about what was going on this week, but I didn't feel I had a choice. I know you're wondering what's going on with me, so let me explain it.</em>
</p><p>“<em>This past weekend, Ma, Pa, and I had it out. For years now, they've known something about me, that few others know, but have never accepted, and that's the fact that I'm a lesbian. I've told you about Gloria, and how she killed herself, but what I never told you is that we had become close-we never did more than kiss-but it was enough that her mom went nuts, as did mine, and since that time, Ma and Pa have tried to 'correct' who I am.</em></p><p>“<em>I finally admitted to them this week that I ain't gonna change. I am who I am. Then they dropped the hammer on me. They won't pay for their share of school any longer for me; and they've already gone to Father Kowolski at our Church, and begun the process to have me excommunicated. They even admitted one reason they sent me to Eastland was to find a guy at Bates or, later, at Langley.</em></p><p>“<em>What's worse, after you left for your date the other night, I got calls from Jesse, Pauley, and even my Uncle Sal, all three of them pretty much disowning me as well. That's why I looked like hell when I saw you last Saturday. </em></p><p>“<em>But there's more, Blair. It's gonna be hard for you to hear it, but I have to come clean with you. I'm not coming back. By the time you get this, I don't know where I'll be, but I'm not coming back. It's nothing you did. It's because of the fact, that for the last four years, I've hidden the fact that you are the one I'm in love with, and who holds my heart, and you always will. I know you're not a lesbian, blondie, and I just couldn't live with you any longer, knowing that I've been disowned by my family, and still having to live a lie with you. </em></p><p>“<em>My heart is shattered, Blair. I've never felt so alone, and so worthless in my life, but always remember this: I love you more than my own life. Please, please, please, don't come looking for me. By the time you get this, I'm pretty sure there won't be a trail for you to find me, but I have to do this. Hell, I don't even know what I'm doing yet, but I can't come back.</em></p><p>“<em>Despite what I've told you, I hope you don't hate me, and will always have some love for me in your heart. You're the best friend I've ever had, but it's too painful to see you now, with me knowing how much I love you. </em></p><p>“<em>I'll carry you in my heart all the days of my life.</em></p><p>“<em>I love you-ALWAYS, Jo.”</em></p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>V</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Everybody's high on consolation<br/>Everybody's trying to tell me what is right for me, yeah<br/>My daddy tried to bore me with a sermon<br/>But it's plain to see that they can't comfort me </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sorry, Charlie for the imposition<br/>I think I got it (got it), I got the strength to carry on, oh yeah<br/>I need a drink and a quick decision<br/>Now it's up to me, ooh, what will be </em>
</p><p>
  <em>She's gone, she's gone<br/>Oh I, oh I<br/>I better learn how to face it<br/>She's gone, she's gone<br/>Oh I, oh I<br/>I'd pay the devil to replace her<br/>She's gone, and she's gone<br/>Oh why, what went wrong?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>She's Gone, Hall and Oates</em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Mrs. Garrett was closing up </b>Edna's Edibles around 8 pm, with Tootie and Natalie assisting her. Edna made sure the two girls, and the other students who worked there, kept a good balance between work and their studies, feeling both were just as important in their own right. It had always been a fun place to work, and her students enjoyed helping her out.</p><p>The last customer had been out the door fifteen minutes earlier, with Mrs. Garrett counting the registers, Tootie and Natalie restocking for the next day. It was a typical night for the three of them.</p><p>As they busied themselves, there was a knock on the front door. It wasn't unusual for someone to knock, not reading the store hours that were clearly posted. Being the closest one to the door, Mrs. Garrett got it.</p><p>“I'm sorry”, she began, as she opened the door, “but we're...”</p><p>She stopped cold.</p><p>Blair was looking at her, as disheveled as Edna had ever seen her, tears streaking down her cheeks, her hair askew, her eyes looking as if...</p><p>“Blair, what is it? Come in, honey.”</p><p>Blair walked in, as if in a trance, barely acknowledging her friend.</p><p>Tootie looked over, becoming alarmed at how Blair looked. “Blair, what's happened?”</p><p>That got Natalie's attention. Usually, Natalie would start bombarding Blair with questions, but one look at Blair, then over to Mrs. G, and she demurred.</p><p>“Mrs....Mrs. Garrett, can we...” Blair's voice was hoarse and broken.</p><p>“Natalie, Tootie”, Edna commanded, “you two go up to the apartment. I'll call you back down if you're needed.”</p><p>Both girls silently nodded, both extremely worried about their friend.</p><p>When it was clear they were gone, Edna took Blair to the break room in the back and sat her down, getting her a cold bottle of water from out front.</p><p>“Blair what's going on?”</p><p>“Mrs. Garrett...it's Jo...I...” Blair started to cry again.</p><p>“Is Jo sick or hurt, Blair, why...what's happening?”</p><p>Blair didn't answer with words, but pulled out the letter that Jo had mailed to her. Blair had been crying for hours, a massive headache pounding at her brain, the life seemingly drained out of the normally effervescent young woman.</p><p>She handed it to Mrs. Garrett, who read through it, her face breaking under the emotion of the words Jo had left for Blair. Finally, despite her best efforts, Edna couldn't the tears out of her own eyes. She looked at Blair, despair in both their eyes.</p><p>“Oh, Blair...”</p><p>The both broke down, sobbing uncontrollably for what seemed like hours, but really was only twenty minutes. Mrs. Garrett couldn't believe what she had read. She could not imagine the pain Jo must have been feeling to do what she had done. It broke the older woman's heart to think one of her girls, that she loved like a daughter had...</p><p>“She's gone, Mrs. Garrett”, Blair said weakly. “She left Monday, of that I'm certain. She's God knows where by now. Oh, Mrs. Garrett, I've lost my best friend.” Again Blair couldn't keep in the pain and sorrow, Edna holding her as tight as she could.</p><p>After another long pause, Blair and Mrs. Garrett finally got their emotions under control. “Have you talked to Jo's parents?”</p><p>Blair shook her head. “No. I'm afraid I'd say some very un-ladylike things to them if I heard their voices. My God, Mrs. Garrett-they <em>disowned</em> her, and from what she said, her whole neighborhood has done the same. I can't imagine what she's going through.”</p><p>“What about the other part, Blair”, Mrs. Garret said softly. “You can't simply ignore what Jo told you?”</p><p>“I know”, Blair said, still wiping her eyes. “You know, I never said it to you, or to Jo, or anyone else, but I love Jo with all my heart. I never thought of her in that way, Mrs. Garrett, but to know the pain that was in her heart, living with me all those years, and not being able to tell me? I'm heartbroken over all of this.”</p><p>“So is Jo, obviously.”</p><p>They had been downstairs long enough that Tootie and Natalie couldn't take it any longer, so they crept back downstairs, overhearing some of the conversation. Mrs. Garrett was not happy.</p><p>“I thought I told the two of you to stay upstairs!” Edna rarely yelled at the girls, but her voice thundered her displeasure. Tootie and Natalie looked stunned.</p><p>Blair intervened. “It's Okay, Mrs. Garrett. In fact, can we go up to the apartment. I need to be somewhere a little more relaxing than this.”</p><p>“What's going on...”</p><p>Blair cut Tootie off, but not unkindly. “I'll fill you in when we get upstairs, Tootie. I can't keep this from either of you, but...well, let's just get upstairs.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Once upstairs, Tootie fetched Blair another water, the four of them sitting down at the kitchen table. Blair started to go over what had happened during the week, then produced the letter to Natalie and Tootie. Natalie read first, holding back the anger that was in her eyes, until after Tootie read it. For her part, Tootie simply broke down and cried, Mrs. Garrett moving over to comfort her.</p><p>“So Jo ran away”, Natalie said with the anger breaking through her voice. “She couldn't ask us for help?”</p><p>“Natalie”, Blair responded, not letting her own anger show, “put yourself in Jo's shoes. Her whole family turned their backs on her. Not only that, but they were going to deny her the education she's been getting. And she didn't think she could ever...face me...” Blair somehow held it together. “She couldn't take how much it was killing her inside to live with me, with the way she was feeling.”</p><p>“But why run away?” Tootie was as bewildered as Natalie. “That makes no sense.”</p><p>“Tootie, oftentimes when someone is dealt a blow like this”, Mrs. Garrett explained, “you may not be thinking clearly. What Jo's parents did to her is completely wrong and heartless, imagine how bereft she's feeling now. She felt she had nowhere to turn. She obviously didn't feel she could even tell us. This is something that she's obviously hidden her entire life. It was crushing her.”</p><p>“What can we do about it?” Natalie was on her feet pacing. “I mean, there has to be something we can do. You aren't just not gonna look for her, are you, Blair?”</p><p>“Oh, no, Nat”, Blair said with a humorless laugh, “I'm not gonna let Jo disappear on me. I think tomorrow I'll call Daddy, and see if he can get some resources working on finding Jo.”</p><p>“That will be tomorrow”, Mrs. Garrett said, knowing she needed to do something. “Girls, if you'll excuse me for a few minutes, I'm going to my bedroom to make a call. I won't be long.”</p><p>She took her leave, as the three younger woman struggled with the gut-punch that had hit them this day. They were angry at Jo for leaving, that was obvious, but they were also in a fit of rage against Jo's family, and frightened to death about what might be going on with Jo. They knew she was tough, and life in The Bronx had taught her to fend for herself, but the fear in the room was palpable.</p><p>Mrs. Garrett was back out in under ten minutes. She had news for the girls.</p><p>“I demanded that Rose and Charlie come here immediately. I told them this couldn't wait, and they needed to be here, in person. I also talked to Mrs. Carruthers, the Dean at Langley, asking her for a meeting first thing in the morning.”</p><p>“Mrs. Carruthers is a wonderful lady”, Blair added. “She really admires Jo, and visa-versa. It's going to hit her hard, too, but she has to know.”</p><p>While Edna and Blair discussed what was going on, Natalie called Mancuso's, and ordered a couple of pizzas for delivery. It was about a fifty-minute drive from The Bronx to Peekskill, and Natalie felt it would be good to have food there-although she wondered if she would simply throw the food at Jo's parents.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>It took just over an hour for Rose and Charlie to arrive. Both had a pretty good idea what this would be about, as they were sure Jo had informed her friends of the fight that had taken place the week before. They had thought about bringing Uncle Sal, but thought that would be too overbearing. They were worried about facing their daughter.</p><p>After they knocked on the door, Edna opened it up. Edna was angry at them, but she was a good politician as far as it went, when it came to her poker face, and putting out formal niceties.</p><p>“Rose, Charlie, won't you please come in?”</p><p>“Thank you, Edna”, Rose said with some caution, a bit surprised by the mild greeting Mrs. Garrett had given them.</p><p>When they arrived in the living room, Blair Warner was there, however, Tootie and Natalie had gone to stay with some of their classmates on the Eastland campus, taking with them their personal belongings, and their school uniform. They would go directly to class from there, and come home that afternoon. Edna had called some other students to fill in for Natalie and Tootie at Edna's Edibles for the next day. She and Blair promised to fill them in the next day.</p><p>“Blair”, Charlie said as lightly as he could. He and Blair had always gotten along better than Blair and Rose. Blair now knew why. Her mother must have instinctively seen how Jo felt about Blair. “It's been a while.”</p><p>“Charlie”, Blair said with a coldness in her voice that even Edna had never heard. “Rose.”</p><p>“Please, have a seat, the both of you.” The pizza was laid out, as well as some Pepsi, Edna inviting them to eat if they liked. It wasn't surprising that the pizza didn't get touched during this visit.</p><p>“So, it's nice to see both of you, but why isn't Jo here? I'm assuming it's about her?”</p><p>“Oh, that's an understatement, Rose”, Edna said with a coldness of her own.</p><p>Blair didn't say a word as she slid the letter that Jo had mailed her, across the coffee table in the room, her eyes never leaving Rose's, filled with an anger that almost frightened the older woman. Looking up at Blair and Edna before reading it, she then scanned the missive.</p><p>Her face grew in abject horror, reading what her daughter had written to Blair in the devastating letter. She glanced at Charlie after was done, the man physically going pale upon reading the contents of the letter.</p><p>“My Jo”, Rose whispered. “Where are you?” She didn't realize she had said the words out loud. Blair let loose at that moment.</p><p>“<em>Your Jo</em>?” Blair stood, never feeling more angry in her entire life. “How <em>dare</em> you call her 'your Jo' after throwing her under the bus, Rose! How dare you!”</p><p>“Now, you listen here, Warner”, Charlie began, himself standing, protecting his ex-wife, “you're one of the reasons all this is happening!”</p><p>Blair took a step toward him, Rose grabbing Charlie so he didn't move. “<em>Me</em>? How am <em>I</em> responsible for any of this? I didn't even know Jo had those feelings for me.” She picked up the letter, flourishing it in front of Charlie. “This is how I found out. And I'm not the one who fucking disowned her simply because she was being honest with you and herself.”</p><p>“<em>Blair</em>!” Mrs. Garrett thundered at the younger woman.</p><p>“Not this time, Mrs. Garrett”, Blair said, rage filling her voice. “These two ran their own daughter off, for the sole reason that she looks at women, not men! They're stopping her education, and forswearing her-and the whole fucking Bronx already knows about it! Good God, what possessed you to treat your own flesh and blood like this?”</p><p>“She was living a life of sin, Blair Warner”, Rose said, herself standing up, defending her action. “She could have just ignored what she feels for you or other women, and...”</p><p>That was the wrong thing to say to Blair.</p><p>“She <em>did</em> ignore it, Rose, for most of her life. All it got her was her family turning on her, and losing her friend Gloria years ago because of your intolerance! Don't you see that? <em>You</em> drove her to this, not me, and not her sexual orientation.”</p><p>“Blair, please”, Edna said, trying to calm the younger woman.</p><p>It was as if no one heard her.</p><p>“I cannot tolerate my daughter living a life of sin, against the teachings of The Church. Father Kowolski said that...”</p><p>Blair cut her off again. “So you're siding with doctrine written by a bunch of stuffy males over a thousand years ago, and an old fuddy-duddy priest, who probably has his own sexual hang-up's, over your daughter? And then you allow the entire Bronx in on it, so they'll back you, and ostracize Jo even more?” Blair threw her hands up in disbelief.</p><p>“That's not fair, Warner”, Charlie said, his face turning redder by the minute. “You don't have to live with the fallout from having a daughter that is a dyke. We have to put up with it now, every day!”</p><p>Even Rose gasped at Charlie's words. Blair took another small, menacing step toward the larger man. “That's what this is all about, isn't it?” She glared at Jo's parents. “<em>Isn't it!” </em>Neither one could answer, or even look at Blair at the moment. “You're no different than my mother, you know that? She's more worried about who I date and marry than about if it would make me happy. She's worried more about how <em>she looks, </em>and how her friends treat her if I were dare to date someone she doesn't approve of. You've done the same thing. Not only did you have the nerve to humiliate her simply because she's interested in women, you then let everyone know about it, so <em>you </em>could act like the aggrieved party.</p><p>“And now, your daughter...my best friend, whom I love with all my heart.” Blair stopped, bringing a hand to her mouth, her tears letting loose. “Now Jo is God knows where, never wanting to return. How <em>dare</em> you act like you're the victims here.”</p><p>Blair turned away, then sitting down, no able to look at the two people in the room with herself and Mrs. Garrett. She wanted to be sick at what they had done.</p><p>After a few minutes, Rose spoke. “So...you have no idea where Jo is, either of you?”</p><p>“None”, Edna said with a finality. “Not the first clue, Rose. She's been gone a week. She could be anywhere by now.”</p><p>“Joey's smart”, Blair added, with some fondness. “If she doesn't want to be found, there's a good chance she won't be. But I'm <em>not</em> going to do what she asked of in that letter. I'm gonna try and get my father to bring his company's considerable assets to look for her.”</p><p>Charlie was going to protest, but thought better of it. “She cleaned out the emergency fund we set up for hear when she started at Eastland. There was quite a bit of doe in that account. She is smart-she won't use credit cards to stay at a hotel, or wherever she's going. She's gone dark.”</p><p>The finality of the statement hit Blair with the effect of a baseball bat to her stomach. She literally doubled over, the tears still streaming down her face. “I'm frightened to death for her, Mrs. Garrett”, she said, ignoring the other two, and looking at her surrogate mother. “I'm afraid we'll never hear from her again. If you'll excuse me, I'm going to the guest room.”</p><p>Blair left without another glance at the other adults, the Polniaczek's resuming their seats.</p><p>After a few minutes of silence, Edna spoke up. “I would think, as her parents, that you'd want to file a Missing Person report with either the Peekskill police, and even the NYPD”, she said with some firmness. She's now been missing for over a week. “And I guarantee you, David Warner <em>will</em> accede to his daughter's request.” Edna paused to let that sink in. “I'm also meeting tomorrow morning with Dean of Langley, Mrs. Carruthers. You are welcome to go with me in the morning. But that's your choice.”</p><p>Edna got out of her chair, needing to reduce some of the tension. She turned back to Jo's parents. “None of us are perfect, God knows, but what the two of you have done to your daughter...it's inexcusable for <em>any</em> parent to abandon their child like that.” Rose started to speak, but Edna stopped her with angry eyes. “I don't care what 'sin' they've committed. As parents, the love we have for our children should be unconditional. I can't tell you how...angry...I am at what you've driven your daughter to do.”</p><p>Edna looked at them hard again. “The meeting with the Dean is at 11 am tomorrow morning. As I said, you're welcome to be there. I'm going to try and salvage Jo's stay at Langley. I owe it to her to try. But for now, I'd ask you to kindly leave my home.”</p><p>Rose and Charlie didn't say a word as they stood up, Edna turning away from them, not trusting herself with saying anything further. The two looked at each other, then sadly left.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>VI</p><p>
  <em>I'm lying alone with my head on the phone<br/>Thinking of you till it hurts<br/>I know you're hurt too, but what else can we do?<br/>Tormented and torn apart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I wish I could carry your smile in my heart<br/>For times when my life seems so low<br/>It would make me believe, what tomorrow could bring<br/>When today doesn't really know, doesn't really know</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm all out of love; I'm so lost without you<br/>I know you were right, believing for so long<br/>I'm all out of love, what am I without you?<br/>I can't be too late to say that I was so wrong</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All Out Of Love, Air Supply</em>
</p><p> </p><p>The Next Day</p><p> </p><p><b>As Edna had suspected</b>, neither Rose or Charlie showed up at the meeting with Dean Carruthers that morning. Despite the fact she had been certain they wouldn't, it just made her rage inside even more.</p><p>At the meeting, Edna informed Allison Carruthers what had transpired the last week, not keeping anything away from the Dean. Allison was in her mid forties, with a reputation of being a fair, concerned administrator of the college, who had a wonderful rapport with both faculty and students, which was a rare accomplishment. She also advised the Dean that Blair was taking the day off, the last twenty four hours being such that she was physically and emotionally exhausted.</p><p>To say Allison Carruthers was revolted and saddened by this turn of events was an understatement. She held Jo Polniaczek in high regard. “Mrs. Garrett this...this is appalling. You said you invited her parents to attend this meeting?”</p><p>“I did, Allison”, Edna confirmed. “I'm not surprised that they were no-shows. They're more worried about how their Church and their community view them, instead of how this has affect their daughter.”</p><p>“My God”, the Dean muttered. “How can one simply turn on their child-their only child like this? I appreciate you confiding to me about this. I've talked to both Jo and Blair many times. They're both fantastic young women. Is there something you'd like me to do?”</p><p>“To be honest, I don't know, Allison”, Edna said frankly. “Jo is one of the most intelligent young women I've ever known. She could do almost anything if she put her mind to it. But obviously, living with this...secret...as long as she has, and growing up in an environment and area that rough enough for youngsters, I just am looking for a way for her to continue her education, if...” Edna paused to corral her emotions. “If we ever find her.”</p><p>Dean Carruthers was silent for a moment, tapping the pen in her hand on the desk in front of her. Like Edna Garrett, she was appalled at this situation, and, like Edna, agreed that Jo Polniaczek was an exceptional young lady.</p><p>“I'll tell you what, Edna”, the other woman said after running it through her mind, “let me make some discreet calls to members of the Board, and to some donors of ours. I hope to God Jo is found. Now, I can't promise anything right now, but I want to make it so that if she's found, and no matter how much time goes by, that she'll have a place here at Langley. I don't want ignorance and bigotry of any kind to win out.”</p><p>A few tears left Edna's eyes. “You don't know how happy that makes me feel, Dean. Jo is like one of the daughters I've never had-Blair is the same way. I just ache for her, and hope to God, wherever she is, that she's safe.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Warner International Corporation Headquarters, Manhattan</p><p> </p><p>David Warner looked at the letter that his daughter had shown him, Blair still in a virtual state of shock over the events of the last few days. The CEO of Warner International knew how close his daughter was to Jo Polniaczek. He felt that Jo had become a positive influence on Blair, showing her that not everything in life was simply given to someone, and that many people, like Jo, had to work to earn their keep. He also felt Blair had been a wonderful influence on Jo, and had helped to sand out many of the rough edges that she had arrived at Eastland with over the years. Unlike his wife, he admired Jo.</p><p>“Blair”, David said solemnly after reading Jo's letter, “is there anything I can get you honey? Some water? Anything at all?”</p><p>“No, Daddy, thank you”, Blair said despondently. “I'm afraid that if I even had water, I might throw it back up.”</p><p>“I understand, Princess”, he said, meaning every word of it. “I have a feeling you didn't bring this letter to me simply to cry on my shoulder...did you?”</p><p>Blair, for the first time in hours, sounded somewhat like herself when responding to the question. “No, Daddy, I didn't, although”, she said with a tiny smile, “that might help me in the short term. No, I know that the company has first-rate investigators, and a lot of contacts all over the world. I'd like to see if some of those resources could be used to look for Jo.”</p><p>David Warner nodded his head. “I don't think that's a bad idea at all, Blair.” He got up from behind his desk, looking out of his window that gave him a view of the Statute of Liberty. “I know I haven't been the best parent that has ever walked the Earth, but I...for the life of me I can't imagine disowning a child over something like this-over anything, to be honest.”</p><p>“Mom won't agree with you on that point”, Blair said with more sadness. “She's never liked Jo. I'm sure she's happy as a clam right now.”</p><p>“Don't worry about your mother right now”, her father advised. “I will keep Monica away from you for the moment. The most important thing is to put together the resources to try to find Jo. In fact”, he continued, “I will personally go to the Polniaczek's home in The Bronx, and start to get as much information as we can. I will also make a request of the NYPD to assist us.” He saw the look of concern on her daughter's face. “I'm not suggesting arresting anyone, Blair, but we need more information than this letter. I think you understand that.”</p><p>“I'm glad you're doing that, Daddy”, Blair said, her anger resurfacing. “If I saw them again, I'm afraid I'd want to rip them to shreds.”</p><p>David Warner sat back down, quiet for a few long moments. “Let me ask you something, honey. What do you think about what Jo revealed to you in the letter? I know that had to be a shock.”</p><p>“I haven't even had time to process it, to be honest”, Blair admitted. “I'm just worried about where she might be, and what she's thinking. I'll think about the rest a little later. I do know she's my best friend, and I love her dearly, Daddy...and I wonder how I would have reacted had she told me face-to-face.” She looked at her father with sad eyes. “Would I have treated her like Rose and Charlie did? Would I have turned my back on her? It frightens me to think that I might have.”</p><p>More silence descended in the room, both of them pondering those words. Finally, David Warner terminated the interview. “I will get to work on this immediately. I will call the head of our Division of Security, and allow him to start gathering resources. You do know it'll be like finding a needle in a haystack?” Blair nodded. “But the sooner we get on it, the better chance we might have in finding her.”</p><p>At the behest of David Warner, both the Peekskill Police Department, and the NYPD put out a Missing Persons advisory for Jo Polniaczek, with approximate height and weight, hair color, eyes color and the like. The APB also included a description of her motorcycle, and the New York License Plate number for it as well. It was hoped that someone, somewhere, would have seen Jo.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Later That Afternoon, Des Moines, Iowa</p><p> </p><p>Rob Brandenburg was getting ready to close up shop. He was the owner of Brandenburg Motorcycles in Des Moines, Iowa. He was a small time dealer, but had a great reputation for fair prices, great customer service, and top-notch mechanics. His grandfather had started the business in the early 1960's, and he followed his dad in the lineage of what was a very successful business.</p><p>As he prepared to start counting his registers, a young woman with short, sandy-blonde hair walked in. He gave her a broad smile.</p><p>“Welcome to Brandenburg Motorcycles, how can I help you today?”</p><p>The woman seemed a little nervous, but smiled back to him. “I know you're getting ready to close up shop, but I was wonderin' if you'd be interested in buying my bike? I'm getting ready to join the Air Force, and won't be needin' it any longer.”</p><p>“Let me take a look at it...what is your name?”</p><p>“Name's Paulette. It's a great bike, and I keep it running really well.”</p><p>Rob and Paulette went out front, the story owner impressed with the shape of the bike. It was a 1980 model, so it was pretty old, but he gave it a once-over, and knew that with a little work, he could sell it as a pretty good beginners bike. When he was finished with his inspection, he asked Paulette to come back inside.</p><p>“It is a bit of an older bike, but no doubt you've taken good care of it”, he said, smiling at her. “Since it is so old, I can't give you a whole lot for it-maybe $1500?”</p><p>“That's fine”, the young lady said dismissively. “Like I said, I won't be needing another bike for a while, and I'd like to have this one find a good home. You pay cash?”</p><p>Twenty minutes later, after giving the bike one more look-see, Rob had Paulette fill out a simple bill of sale, and handed her the cash, feeling he had gotten a good deal, but feeling that so had Paulette.</p><p>“I appreciate you takin' my bike”, Paulette said gratefully. “I hope it finds a good home. It's been good to me.”</p><p>“I don't think I'll have any problem finding a good owner for it, Miss. You've taken excellent care of it.”</p><p>“Thanks again”, Paulette said with a small smile. “Oh, by the way, can you tell me where either the Amtrak or Greyhound station is?”</p><p>Rob gave her the directions-it was a station for both trains and buses only about a half mile away. Paulette shook his hand, and departed for the location.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>A Week Later</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Blair had arrived back in Peekskill, and after missing about a week of classes she got back to the business of her education. Dean Carruthers had informed her professors of her absence, and they made sure she would be caught up as quickly as possible.</p><p>Despite the gnawing worry about Jo, Blair poured herself into her studies, with Mrs. Garrett inviting her over to dinner most evenings, so she wouldn't have to be all alone in the apartment she had shared with Jo.</p><p>Mrs. Garrett, Natalie, and Tootie had come over one day to box up Jo's belongings. Blair had thought of returning it to her parents in The Bronx, but just thinking of Jo's folks made her sick to her stomach. She decided to have it put in a U-Store-It location in Peekskill, so that, she hoped, one day, Jo could retrieve the items.</p><p>On a Thursday night, Blair was over at the apartment Mrs. G shared with Nat and Tootie, the four of them having all chipped in to make a wonderful, but light dinner for that evening. Blair took solace in the stories her two younger friends would tell her about what was going on at Eastland, and also at Edna's Edibles.</p><p>They had just finished up dinner, with Blair offering to clean and put away the dishes, when Blair's cell phone rang. Not many people had the new technology yet, but if anyone was going to have it, it would be Blair. In fact, her father had purchased a large number of the phones for the executives and managers, not only in New York, but around the world. He knew it would be a technology that would be a game-changer.</p><p>Blair looked at the number on the phone. It was her father. That automatically made her heart thud, as she was certain it was news about Jo in one form or another. Her worst nightmare was to have her father advise her that Jo was dead. But she answered the phone anyway.</p><p>“Daddy, what's up?”</p><p>“<em>Princess, I just wanted to let you know, the FBI gave us some news connected to Jo.”</em></p><p>Blair shut her eyes, her imagination running away for a moment. “They didn't...is she...”</p><p>“<em>No, Blair”, </em>David said, his heart breaking that his daughter felt she had to ask, “<em>but as you know, the APB's that were put out mentioned her bike, and the license plate number. Police in Des Moines, Iowa spotted it yesterday afternoon. After running some checks on the bike, it seems it was sold to a bike shop in Des Moines about a week ago. The dealer was shown a picture of Jo, but said it didn't look like the girl who had brought it in, but said the eyes were very similar. He said this girl had short, blonde hair.”</em></p><p>Blair breathed out a sigh of relief. It didn't mean something awful had happened to Jo, but it meant that she was probably somewhere. “Could Jo have cut her hair and colored it?” She was thinking out loud.</p><p>“<em>It's possible, Princess”, </em>David said cautiously. “<em>I wish to God they had found her, but there's a good chance that was her. The dealer's owner, who bought the bike and resold it, said the young lady asked him where the Greyhound and Amtrak stations were. It's a combo station for both...so she could be anywhere by now.”</em></p><p>Blair's heart sunk a little lower, although she knew the news couldn't be worse.</p><p>Her father talked to her a few more minutes, promising her they would not give up looking for Jo. When she hung up, she went into the living room of Mrs. Garrett's apartment, and took a seat on the couch next to the older women. Blair started to sob.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>VII</p><p>
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</p><p>
  <em>Since you've been gone</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I shut my eyes</em>
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  <em>And I fantasize</em>
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  <em>That you're here with me</em>
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  <br/>
  <em>Will you ever return?</em>
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  <em>I won't be you satisfied</em>
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  <em>Till you're by my side</em>
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  <em>Don't wait any longer...</em>
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  <em>Why don't you come back?</em>
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  <em>Please hurry, why don't you come back?</em>
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  <em>Please hurry...</em>
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  <em>Come back and stay for good this time</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Come back and stay for good this time</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Come Back And Stay, Paul Young</em>
</p><p> </p><p>One Year Later, The Apartment Above Edna's Edibles</p><p> </p><p><b>Blair Warner was approaching the end</b> of her Junior year at Langley. She was scheduled to graduate the next year with a degree in International Finance and a minor in Art. She had always loved to paint, but knew her future was with Warner International. In fact, she knew that within a few years, she'd be President of Warner, under the tutelage of her father, who would remain CEO. The position of President was more ceremonial than one that made the big decisions, but she would be in all the big meetings where those decisions were made. It was expected that she would follow after her father.</p><p>Yet for the last year, Blair had been a shell of herself. And everyone knew why.</p><p>She no longer lived in the apartment that she and Jo had shared near the campus. She was sharing the apartment that Mrs. Garrett, Tootie, and Natalie had. Without Jo in the old place, it was like living with a ghost, and the constant silence was a reminder that her best friend was long gone.</p><p>Despite the resources of Warner International, not a trace of Jo Polniaczek had been found since she left. It had hit Langley College, and the Eastland School-which was now co-ed, like a punch in the gut, when the story of Jo became public knowledge. Jo was a legend at Eastland, her academic and athletic prowess still talked about, as was her no-holds-barred Bronx directness, which had rubbed many the wrong way, but had endeared her to far more people than she could ever realize.</p><p>Of course, there were some rivals that took great pleasure in Blair's misery-Dina Becker and Brock Worthington being among them. Most notably those two. They still didn't miss a chance to humiliate Blair, or to disparage Jo whenever they had the opportunity. Yet for the most part, all the others who had been rivals and detractors of Jo, like Boots St. Clair, had realized the gravity of the situation, and had tried to reconcile with Blair.</p><p>Blair was studying in the living room, some light music on in the background, when Natalie came into the room. Usually she and Tootie were inseparable, but Tootie was rehearsing for an upcoming play at Eastland.</p><p>“You want something to drink, Warner?” Natalie was moving directly toward the kitchen.</p><p>“We have any Pepsi?”</p><p>“Yeah, I think we do. I'll grab you one.”</p><p>“Thanks, Nat.”</p><p>Moments later, a very cold can of Pepsi was in front of Blair. She opened it, taking a quick sip.</p><p>“Whatcha working on, Blair?”</p><p>“Creative Writing”, Blair informed her, turning toward her friend and smirking. “Yes, I know, that will help me so much when I'm in the business world, but I enjoy putting my feelings down on paper-or via a computer. It can be cathartic.”</p><p>Natalie didn't even have to ask what feelings Blair would be writing about. Blair Warner had not been the same person since Jo vanished off the face of the Earth. “What's the assignment?”</p><p>Part of Blair didn't want to divulge that information, but Natalie, like the other two, had been rocks for her since Jo left. “This assignment is to write a 'letter' to someone, and to simply put down your thoughts in an intelligent and structured way.”</p><p>Natalie knew she was treading lightly here. “Can I read what you have, Blair?”</p><p>Blair looked at her friend. The look between them was confirmation enough for the younger girl as to the subject matter of Blair's 'letter'. Blair slid the two sheets of paper across to Nat, not looking at her friend as she did so.</p><p>Natalie looked down at the letter, then back up to Blair. The blonde had risen, heading toward the window, overlooking the street below. Natalie knew that this letter would hit her hard.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dear Jo;</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It's such a lovely day in Peekskill today. Not a cloud in the sky. The birds are all out celebrating the arrival of spring as if a new world had dawned just for them. The breeze is light and warm, portending to the approach of summer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet I don't see any of that when I look out the window. I see darkness: a darkness that has been constant for the last year. I don't hear the birds, just a maddening silence. I feel a cold, bitter wind, that bites into the depths of my soul. The sunshine that was in my life has been missing for a year. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>You took all that light from my life when you left.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don't know where you are. I don't know what you're doing, or who your with, or what fills your days. I don't even know if you're still alive. Yet I feel you, so deeply in my heart, the pain of your departure beating me down, day by day. There is no joy in life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You are still, and always will be, my best friend. I didn't realize until you were gone just how indispensable you were to me-how you centered me, gave me a true purpose beyond myself. Why does it take losing something or someone that is so important, to realize that it was taken for granted? I took you for granted, Jo. I wish I hadn't been so blind.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I pray for you, every night. I've even gone to the Church you frequented here in Peekskill, and light a candle for you once a week, and say a silent prayer. I just wish I could tell you how much I miss you-and how much I will always love you.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I'm lonely, Jo. Come home.</em>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Natalie set the letter back down, wiping her eyes, as silent tears had fallen. “That's beautiful, Blair”, Natalie said, herself rising from the couch, going over to the blonde. She hugged Blair from behind. “I know how much you miss her. We all do, Blair. I wish I had more than words.”</p><p>Blair continued to look out the window. “Nat, I wonder if Jo's even still alive? I mean, nothing has turned up on her. And trust me, the company has a lot of resources to do a search like this. It kills me that they have found nothing.”</p><p>“I know, Warner”, Natalie said. “I think Jo's upbringing in The Bronx is helping her to stay hidden from everyone.”</p><p>It was a weak attempt at humor, but Blair smiled anyway. “It's the barbarian in her, you know that?” She could feel Natalie nod. “I know I haven't talked about it much, Nat, but...and I think all three of you know this, but I discovered just how much I loved Jo. I'm so empty without her. My heart never stops hurting.”</p><p>The sobs started, as they often did when Blair discussed Jo. Natalie hugged her harder. “We all love her, Blair.” Natalie broke the hug and turned Blair toward her. “But you love her in a way that none of us do. I think you're finally admitting to yourself what Jo admitted to you when she sent that letter to you. You two had such a connection. It was pretty awesome to watch sometimes-even when you were close to killing each other.”</p><p>That made Blair genuinely laugh.</p><p>“I'm not gonna blow smoke at you, Blair”, Natalie continued, taking her friends hands. “I wish I could tell you Jo will come home, and you'll get to tell her how much you love her. But whatever happens, keep that light on. Don't ever let it go out, Okay?”</p><p>Blair hugged her friend, closing her eyes. “I'll try, Nat. I'm just so lost without her.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Same Time, Near Sacramento, California</p><p> </p><p>Her hair was a tint of red now, a little longer than it was the year prior. The name on the “expired” Texas Drivers License, said that her name was Patricia Jones, a name that could fit of myriad of women in North America. Sitting virtually hidden next next to an overpass carrying Interstate 5 overhead, a leftover sandwich in her hand, with a small bottle of whiskey to wash it down. Her eyes were glazed over, almost lifeless, beaten down over a hard, lonely year, far removed from where and who she used to be.</p><p>When she had left her home, she had been 5 foot, 5 inches tall, weighing about 140 pounds, most of it muscle. Today, the height was the same, but her weight was down to 120, her body looking nothing like it had when she left. Even in that short amount of time, the twenty-two year old woman had aged, looking older than anyone her age had a right to look.</p><p>In her purse, hidden in a compartment she had added to it, was a large wad of money. It wasn't as much as it had been the year before, but still more than enough to get by, and to stay hidden from the world. She made sure she looked like a bum-which she knew, in her heart, she was. She dressed raggedly, she bought cheap booze and only small amounts to eat, sometimes simply panhandling for handouts. She didn't want the world to know she had any money with her. So far, it had worked.</p><p>Yet every night, even on the few nights she could find any decent amount of sleep, the pain and agony of her past would haunt her REM sleep. Nightmares of her family and friends heaping scorn on her for who she was, other dreams of being attacked and assaulted for what she was, and even images of the person she had loved more than any other on the face of the Earth, rejecting her and humiliating her. In a word, she never seemed to be able to escape from the Hell her life had turned into-a life she had chosen. She tried not to think about her parents, or cousins, or whatnot, nor of the schoolmates over the years who had called her out for being different.</p><p>Despite the harrowing, daily pain, she kept a very small chamber of her shattered heart separate from that pain. It was reserved for one person, who she would always love. Taking another sip of the liquid that burned when going down her throat, tears formed in her eyes.</p><p>“I miss you, Blair”.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>The Bronx</p><p> </p><p>Every day, at 10am, Rose Polniaczek lit a votive candle for her daughter at St. Alben's, the Catholic Church she had gone to since she was a child. Every day, she said her Rosary, silently sitting in a pew, trying to make sense of what had happened to her family. She almost didn't think she had one any longer.</p><p>Her Catholic faith had been the backbone of her life-a life that was hard, usually working two or three jobs a day for years, making sure Jo could go to Eastland, and then to Langley. It was an existence in a neighborhood that would frighten most people, with its gangs, the violence, the drug trade, yet she didn't want to live anywhere else. It was her religious faith, and the faith that she believed in the people where she lived, that had spoken that fateful day to Jo.</p><p>That had been over a year ago. She hadn't seen nor heard from her daughter since.</p><p>Rose had continued to work two jobs, dropping the third because, well, it was no longer needed, but she still needed to make ends meet, and to try and save up something for a retirement that was still years away. She enjoyed her jobs, but she no longer felt that she truly had anything to work for.</p><p>As she fingered her Rosary beads-a Rosary her grandmother had given her years ago, she was lost in thought. The Rosary consisted of a metal Crucifix, and a number of beads. The prayer of the Rosary began with touching the Crucifix, making the sign of the cross, then beginning a sequence of prayers, consisting of Hail Mary's, Our Father's, Glory Be's while touching different beads, and meditating on one of the twelve mysteries. It would end where it began, with touching the Crucifix, and making the sign of the cross.</p><p>Some people said the Rosary out loud, but as with most things in her life, Rose simply said it silently. It gave her some comfort, but each prayer also gave her a stab of guilt for how she had turned on her daughter, which in turn had driven her daughter away, not to be heard from since.</p><p>Rose still went to Church every Sunday for a full mass, and kept the love of her Faith, yet even in Church she found no peace. Despite the support from her family, friends, neighbors, and her congregation, she still could see, with furtive glances out of the corners of her eyes, the looks from others, who in their own minds, were judging her for what she had done, even as many silently agreed with it.</p><p>She had not seen a counselor, or even talked to the Pastor of St. Alben's, Father Kowolski. He had been watching her closely over the year, and he, too, felt ashamed of what had transpired, all in the name of Dogma. On this day, as Rose prayed silently, Father Kowolski approached her as she stood up to depart.</p><p>“Rose, my dear”, the older priest intoned quietly, “may I have a word or two with you over in the Rectory?” He said the words in a conversational tone, hoping that Rose didn't suspect what the subject would be, yet he knew he wasn't fooling himself, or Rose.</p><p>When they arrived in his office at the Rectory, he poured her a hot coffee as she made herself comfortable. After a few sips, and the usual opening pleasantries, he got down to what he wanted to discuss.</p><p>“There's still no word on Joanna?” His voice was soft and caring.</p><p>She shook her head. “No, not a word, Father. Even with an APB out all around the country, and with...with Blair Warner's father putting the resources of his company into the search, nothing has turned up. It's hard not knowing where she is, what she's up to, or even...even if she's still alive.”</p><p>The priest nodded his head. “I've been thinking about Jo and your family a lot over this past year, Rose. I look back and wish I had done things differently myself. Jesus taught us about love and compassion, and, well, I certainly didn't live up to His teachings that day.”</p><p>Rose was shocked to hear her Pastor say such a thing. He had always been a very sure, passionate advocate for his beliefs. The Father saw her confusion. He smiled.</p><p>“Don't misunderstand me, Rose. I will never abandon my faith, but I've thought so often in the last year that, perhaps, there are times when we truly need to question what we've been taught. Let me ask you something”, he said, looking right at the woman, “do you believe The Bible is literal?”</p><p>That question had never been asked of Rose, and it brought her up short. “I would have to say, Father, that, with how I've practiced my faith over the year, I tend to think of it more literal than not. Why do you ask?”</p><p>“I believe the New Testament is an account of Christ's life among us. I truly do. But the Old Testament? I've come to think of it more as a giant parable, and in some respects, we have to remember who truly wrote it, and what books were included after the Council of Nicea: a bunch of men, one being Constantine, who wasn't even a true believer. He called the Council to bring order to the Roman Empire, remember. And if you look at The Church over the centuries, with the Crusades, the Inquisitions and the like, and even today with terrorism from those of the Islamic faith, more blood has been spilled 'In the name of God', than any other cause.</p><p>“I guess what I'm trying to say is sometimes we can't see the forest for the trees. So Joanna is a lesbian. I know what The Church's stance on that is, but should that stance be so cold that it shuns her? Should it make it so she feels no one loves or cares for her? We're all God's children, Rose. I wish I could take back my part in this.”</p><p>“As do I, Father Kowolski”, Rose said with regret. “I truly was only trying to do what I thought was best for Jo. I think I let my religious faith blind me to the most important lesson Christ taught us-and that's to love one another, and to let God judged in the end.”</p><p>“Have you had any contact with Ms. Warner?”</p><p>Rose shook her head. Despite her confession to the priest that she believed she and Charlie had done wrong by Jo, she still had trouble with Jo's words in the letter sent to Blair, that she was in love with the wealthy young woman. It still ran up against a lifetime of religious teaching.</p><p>“No. We were briefed by the NYPD, and Warner International's Vice-President for Security when the search began, and he has kept us updated once a month, just to keep in touch, but...I still have trouble getting past how Jo feels about Blair. It doesn't have as much to do with Blair as a person”, she hastily added, “because Blair, despite being raised completely different from Jo, is really a delightful young lady, and she and Jo have been good for each other as friends. How do I get past my own stubbornness?”</p><p>“I wish I had the answers, Rose”, Father Kowolski said sadly, “because it's something I struggle with every day. I do know, if and when Jo returns, that you, me, Charlie-all of us who turned our backs on her, will have to spend the rest of our days making it up to her. It hurts me to think that a child I baptized, who I knew so well, is out on her own like this. I hope the Good Lord forgives us when we meet him, Rose.”</p><p>“Amen”, Jo's mother said, almost in a whisper. “I just miss her so much, Father.”</p><p>“Our faith makes us strong, Rose, but sometimes it makes it so we can't see the good that is right in front of us. It's a daily struggle. Jo is one of the beautiful, good things in life. We just have to hope that, some day, she'll return home.”</p><p>The two went back out into the Church, each lighting a candle for Rose, then praying together, asking God for Jo's safe return.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>VIII</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Jesse, come home, there's a hole in the bed<br/>Where we slept, now it's growing cold<br/>Jesse, your face and the place</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Where we lay by the hearth, all apart </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It hangs on my heart</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I'm leaving the light on the stairs<br/>No, I'm not scared, I wait for you<br/>Hey Jesse, it's lonely, come home </em>
</p><p> </p><p>”<em>Jesse”, Roberta Flack</em></p><p> </p><p>One Year Later, Just Before Langley Graduation</p><p> </p><p><b>Two days before her graduation from Langley</b>, Blair Warner was writing in the notebook that she had kept with her for the last year. It started during a creative writing assignment, but she had continued to write what she had begun that day. In the notebook, she now had a few dozen “letters” written to Jo, none of them sent, of course, but desperately wishing she could. It was both cathartic and heartbreaking at the same time, to tell your best friend what you've been up to, but knowing she wasn't there to share it with you. The hurt of Jo's departure had never subsided for Blair. Indeed, it had only deepened. It was a testament to her growth as a person that she had not let her grades slide even a little since her best friend left.</p><p>Graduation was in two days. Her father had already made it clear he was attending, but Blair had heard not a word from her mother in the two years since Jo left. No doubt the story had filtered to Monica Warner, but Blair thought of Mrs. Garrett more like a mother than Monica these days.</p><p>Monica had given birth to a little girl a year earlier. Blair had yet to meet her half-sister, Bailey, as Monica had given birth in Europe, and was still over there, as far as Blair knew. Blair had written to her mother, even left messages on her phone in France where she was living, but had not heard back from Monica Warner.</p><p>Blair had just put away her notebook, and was heading into the kitchen to get a snack. Dorothy and Natalie were sitting at the kitchen table, chatting amiably as they always seemed to, Blair smiling as they passed them. Grabbing herself a glass, she opened the fridge and lifted a pitcher of iced tea, then returning the pitcher and sitting near the other two girls.</p><p>“Nothing like an iced tea on a warm spring day”, Blair said, although, with almost everything else, her heart wasn't in it.</p><p>“I think I would like to try a Long Island Iced Tea this summer”, Natalie said mischievously. Tootie and Blair both rolled their eyes.</p><p>“You're still not old enough for one of those, Nat”, Tootie said with a crooked grin, “although I've heard they can be pretty good, if they're made right.”</p><p>“Oh, they are, Tootie”, Blair said with a genuine laugh. “Problem with them is if they're made just right, you can't tell there's much alcohol in them, and by the time you figure it out, you can't get your butt out of a chair.” All three girls laughed at that mental image.</p><p>“Isn't that kinda like going to a...what's it called? A something Buffalo?”</p><p>Natalie burst out laughing. “It's a Hairy Buffalo, Tootie!”</p><p>“And just how do you know about Hairy Buffalo's, Nat?” Blair gave her a smirk, raising her eyebrows.</p><p>“I ended up at one late last summer. My cousin took me to a party and they had one going at a friend's apartment.”</p><p>“What's in a Hairy Buffalo, Nat?”</p><p>“Well, Tootie, for college types, you buy a huge rubber trash can. You then buy a bunch of fruit, some Kool-Aid, and some 190-proof alcohol. You cut up the fruit, and soak it in the alcohol. Now you can soak it for as long or as little as you want-my cousin's friend soaked it for twelve hours. You can imagine the color of the fruit being soaked in booze for that long.” Natalie was in her element, going a million miles an hour, her eyes lit up, telling a story. It was pure Natalie. “Then you fill the can with ice and water, pour in the Kool-Aid, the fruit, and the left-over alcohol, then mix it all up, and viola! One genuine Hairy Buffalo.”</p><p>The other two laughed. “And let me tell you, Tootie”, Blair added, “it's like drinking Kool-Aid. When done right, like a Long Island Iced Tea, you can't even tell there's alcohol in it. It can knock you on your ass.” They all laughed, then Blair continued. “During our Freshman year at Langley, Jo and I went to a Hairy Buffalo, and by the end of the night, Jo was absolutely wasted...”</p><p>In a nanosecond, Blair's face contorted, realizing what she had said. The smile on her face vanished, replaced by the most heartbreaking look that Natalie and Tootie had ever seen on anyone's face. They had literally held their breath when Blair mentioned Jo's name.</p><p>For a few moments, Blair looked confused, but then exploded like Vesuvius. She picked up the glass of iced tea, hurling it with an anguished scream at the refrigerator, shattering the glass into tiny shards.</p><p>“<em>Goddammit, Jo! Why did you leave me! Why!”</em></p><p>Without hesitation, the other two girls were at Blair's side, as she dropped her head on the table, sobbing uncontrollably, Jo's name crossing her lips now and again.</p><p>“<em>Jo, where the hell are you! I miss you! I need you</em>!”</p><p>Natalie and Tootie became worried as Blair's breakdown spiraled downward to the point they thought she might physically have a stroke or a heart attack. Natalie looked at Tootie, the younger girl getting the message without spoken words, and ran downstairs to the store to fetch Mrs. Garrett.</p><p>In a few minutes, Mrs. Garrett was by Blair's side, but there was no consoling the young woman. Edna quietly instructed Natalie to call the Nurse/Practitioner that was on duty for Eastland, on whose property the store and apartment sat. Twenty minutes later, the woman was on the scene, trying to get Blair to calm down. The blonde was literally hyperventilating, having trouble catching her breath.</p><p>The nurse gave Blair a sedative to calm her. Half hour after the nurse had arrived, Blair was in a fitful sleep on the couch. The sobbing and what could almost be called convulsions had subsided. Mrs. Garrett had sent Natalie and Tootie down to help run the shop until she could get free.</p><p>“Mrs. Garrett”, the nurse advised, after Edna had filled her in on what was going on, “Blair is a healthy young women, but her heart rate was through the roof, as was her blood pressure. You say this isn't the first time this has happened?”</p><p>Edna shook her head. “No, but it's the most...undone that I've seen Blair since Jo left. She's been trying to keep it inside.”</p><p>“She needs to let it out more often then. She'll give herself a heart attack, even at age twenty-one, if she doesn't let it out constructively. Is there a way to contact her parents?”</p><p>“Well, her father will be here tomorrow, for the Langley graduation on Saturday. I have no idea if her mother will be here. Perhaps I should call Mr. Warner and have him come here immediately. That might help Blair.”</p><p>“That's not a bad idea. When Mr. Warner arrives, perhaps I can talk to him. I think her daughter needs to get a complete physical, and also, perhaps, get some counseling for this.”</p><p>The woman left, Mrs. Garrett deciding to stay with Blair as she slept. She informed Tootie and Natalie she would be down when it was closing time. With that settled, she called David Warner.</p><p> </p><hr/><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>Two-and-a-half hours later, David Warner was at Edna's apartment. Blair was still asleep when he arrived.</p><p>“Mrs. Garrett”, David said, giving the woman a reassuring hug. David knew that Blair had benefited greatly from Mrs. Garrett's influence. He well knew that, going to Eastland, then Langley, Blair would meet many girls like herself-from wealthy families, who didn't appreciate the daily grind of life, and who took most everything for granted. Yet he also knew Blair would meet girls like Natalie Green and Dorothy Ramsey, girls who didn't come from other backgrounds, who would show her a different side of life.</p><p>Yet for all the appreciation he had for Edna Garrett, Blair's teachers and friends, he had never even considered someone like Jo Polniaczek coming into her daughter's life. His first meeting with Jo, he hadn't been impressed. She was crass, profane at times, lacking in many social skills that David had come to take for granted.</p><p>Yet as Blair wrote to him, and talked to him on the phone over the years, and from his own personal observations over the years, he began to realize that Jo had instilled in Blair a sense of compassion and humanity that his only child had perhaps not had when she entered Eastland so many years ago. Blair had told him, in amazement, about Jo's intelligence, her perseverance, and her basic goodness as a person. It had amazed Blair how they could fight like cats and dogs, but if anyone outside of their circle threatened Blair, or visa-versa, they would defend the other with ferocity, and without hesitation.</p><p>On the numerous occasions he had been present with Blair and Jo, he had noticed how the native of The Bronx would look at his daughter when she thought no one looking. As an executive of a massive International Corporation, David hadn't risen to that strata by not noticing how people acted and reacted. He could see it in Jo's eyes, that she truly admired Blair. More than that, he could tell that Jo loved Blair with an incredible intensity. Perhaps because Blair was with Jo every day, it didn't surprise her that Blair didn't see the devotion Jo had.</p><p>Yet he also noticed it was reciprocal. Blair truly loved Jo as well. David didn't think Blair realized the depth of her feelings for the young lady, most likely because the pressure of the society that he and Blair came from-to find a handsome suitor, who was also from the right kind of family, to get married, and to produce offspring-or as Monica simply called them, “heirs”, for a new generation of wealth and privilege.</p><p>To be sure, David Warner appreciated the finer things in life, but he had seen enough people go from the penthouse to the outhouse to know such a life wasn't something to haughtily take for granted. It could be taken from anyone. A person's strength and integrity wasn't forged by constant success. That was truly tested by setbacks and disappointments. He certainly didn't want to lose the family fortune his father, and now he, had built up, but he didn't want it to be the sole definition of who he was and what he stood for.</p><p>“Mr. Warner”, Edna said with a worried smile, “I think we've known each other long enough that you can call me Edna.”</p><p>David smile warmly. “Only if you call me David.” He nodded for them to go to the kitchen table. “How is Blair?”</p><p>“She's still asleep, David”, Edna said calmly, over the shock of a few hours ago. “I've never seen her so hysterical, so...bereft. I was truly worried she'd give herself a heart attack.”</p><p>David shook his head sadly, bowing it for a moment. “You don't know how much I appreciate you helping her like this-not just today, but for all these years. This thing with Jo has changed Blair in ways she can't even see. I've never seen or heard her sound so defeated in her life.”</p><p>“And yet she's kept her grades up, David, something you should be proud of. She's worked hard to get her degree. But you're right-it has come with a price.”</p><p>“Jo should be with her Saturday, that's what tears me to pieces.” He sighed, going silent for a moment. “What gets me is that our corporation has many resources, and yet, for two years, we've found absolutely no trace of Jo.” He gave Edna a wry smile. “I think her Bronx upbringing has helped her in this situation, I'm sorry to say.”</p><p>“If she's even alive”, Edna ventured, not really wanting to say it.</p><p>“Yes”, David said, barely above a whisper, “if she's alive.” Again he paused. “I think I'll need a change of plans after graduation, Edna. We were going to go on vacation in Europe, but now? I know she needs to see a doctor and a therapist. I have no compunction with having Blair get help. There are far too many snobs that would be aghast at the idea, but my daughter needs help.”</p><p>“What do you suggest, David?”</p><p>He shook his head. “I'm not sure, but I don't believe sitting around Europe, having nothing but time to think about Jo, is helpful. Neither is a work environment. But I need she and I to get her a physical exam, and then meet with a psychologist, to see if we can somehow get her moving, at least mentally in a more positive direction. That alone may take up the whole summer.”</p><p>“Wasn't she going to start working at the company in the fall?”</p><p>David nodded. “Yes, she was, and she still might. She's indicated that she wants to get into the business, but I don't want her to be so focused on work, just to forget about Jo. I'm not giving up on finding Jo, mind you”, he added hastily, “but we've had nothing so far. We have to find a way to get Blair to start getting beyond this. And, if we do find Jo, God willing, we'll deal with it.”</p><p>“Has Blair indicated to you if...well, how her feelings about Jo...” Edna didn't know where to take that.</p><p>David smiled. “Edna, I've never mentioned this to anyone but Monica-and you can guess how she reacted-but I came to the conclusion a long time ago that Jo deeply loved Blair. I didn't get to be the CEO of a Fortune 500 by not being able to read people. It's been in Jo's eyes for years. I'm surprised no one else has noticed, but I did. I also know Blair adores Jo to no end. Whether she feels the same way about Jo as Jo felt about her, I'm not quite sure. But I know she'd give her life to bring Jo back.”</p><p>Edna gave a small smile for the first time. “I noticed something between them years ago, something beyond their constant, insane arguments.” They both laughed. “Beyond that, they would, like you said, have given their life for the other. I just hope that this isn't how it ends, David. I miss Jo terribly as well. So do Tootie and Natalie, but Blair...right now it's killing her.”</p><p>“I know, Edna”, he said gravely. “We try to start reversing that next week. And I think I'll take a short leave of absence to help Blair deal with this. I don't want to see Blair suffering any more.”</p><p>A few hours later, Blair was awake, and had agreed with her father that the summer had to be spent making sure she was physically and mentally healthy. She hadn't given up on finding Jo someday-she would never give that up, but she knew she had to move forward.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>IX</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I hear your heartbeat</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But you're never there</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Like a mirage</em>
  <br/>
  <em>You haunt me everywhere</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All day long I burn for you</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Lonely in the night</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I try to live alone</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But I just can't get it right, you know that</em>
</p><p>
  <em>This town's like a painted desert</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Dead heat, moving in the city</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I'm lost in a painted desert</em>
  <br/>
  <em>In a painted desert...without you</em>
</p><p>“<em>Painted Desert”, Pat Benatar</em></p><p> </p><p>One Year Later</p><p> </p><p><b>All in all, Jo Polniaczek thought,</b> she'd rather be in Philadelphia at the moment.</p><p>Instead at the moment, going on three years after leaving Peekskill, she was in Denver, Colorado. Why the hell she had migrated here during the winter months, she still couldn't figure out. Homeless shelters this time of year, even with spring approaching, were packed. The occasional heavy snows or blizzards, sometimes accompanied by below-zero temperatures had made for some cold, desperate nights for Jo.</p><p>Her hair was raven color now, and very long. Now she went by the name of Brittany Robinson, from Tennessee, on her “expired” driver's license. But despite the change in her appearance and name, she was no better than she had been this time the year before, when she was in Sacramento.</p><p>In fact, she was much worse.</p><p>Weighing barely one hundred pounds now, looking more and more like skin and bones, she had lost so much of her humanity. She was skittish, combative, and very territorial, which she needed to be to stay alive. She had lay more than a few nights while in Denver, over a the past winter, where she slept on a sidewalk grate blowing warm air, only a tattered sleeping bag covering her body. She had also had to endure a blizzard outside, as all the shelters were filled to overflowing. It had hardened her. She knew she would head to warmer climates shortly.</p><p>She still had some money, but it was dwindling, through loss, through buying cheap booze and small meals, and now due to her latest vice-heroin.</p><p>She had first tried it while in Las Vegas late the year before, with nothing better to do, hoping that it would provide some kind of escape. It had, at least when the euphoria of the drug was coursing through her veins, but the crash left her worse off than she had been before taking a dose, but like many others, she kept coming back to it, trying to find a semblance of something that made her feel good, even though she knew it was killing her.</p><p>Today, a late winter storm had swept in from the Rockies, near-blizzard conditions affecting the area. Passing by a local bank, looking for a shelter that had room, it's time and temperature stated it was currently 12 degrees. With a howling wind, Jo knew the wind chill was well below zero. All she had were tennis shoes for her feet, and a coat meant for temperatures in the forties, not heading toward zero. She was desperately cold, her nose constantly running, her threadbare gloves hardly giving any protection to her hands.</p><p>Jo was able to find a brief refuge from the wind in an alley, happy not to be fighting the wind on the street. She sat down against the alabaster wall of the building she was next to, pulled out the large rubber band she used to raise the vein in the crease of her elbow, then plunged the cold needle with the opioid into the vein, covering her arm back up as much to simply cover the multiple needle marks in her arm as to protect herself from the biting cold.</p><p>Jo walked around for several more hours, not being able to find a shelter that had any more room. She had to spend the night in an alley huddled in a door frame, frozen and as miserable as she had ever felt.</p><p>As the tears fell from her eyes, almost freezing to her cheeks immediately, and despite the drug coursing through her, trying to take her away from reality, she whispered the woman's name who she still missed with aching intensity.</p><p>“<em>Blair</em>...”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Manhattan, New York City</p><p> </p><p>It had been a good day at work for Blair Warner, who was working as an assistant to the Vice-President of International Marketing at Warner International Corporation. She had been an employee in her Daddy's company, of which he was CEO, for the last seven months. Blair had graduated the year before from Langley College just north of New York City, and she was on the fast track to a Corporate leadership role within the huge company.</p><p>Blair hadn't felt this good in several years, and there were a few reasons for that. She was really excelling at her position, making heads turn. She didn't want to make it because her Daddy was CEO. She busted her ass, absorbed everything she could from her bosses and co-workers, wanting to earn everything she would receive.</p><p>The other reason was that, for the first time in three years, she was mentally and physically healthier than she had been. She had begun exercising in earnest, to tighten up her very shapely figure, but more importantly, she had, and still was, going through counseling to deal with the disappearance of her best friend, Jo Polniaczek, three years earlier. She didn't want to forget about Jo, and still held out hope that her friend would turn up some day, but she had realized that if she continued to falter, she'd be a victim just like Jo had been.</p><p>It was a Friday afternoon, the blessed weekend in front of her now. She was in her apartment, seven blocks from the corporate headquarters in Manhattan. It was befitting that the apartment was elegant, loaded with every upscale appliance, but with only the one bedroom. Blair had become less enthralled with “things” since Jo vanished. She still liked fine clothes, fine food, and a measure of elegance, but it didn't drive her.</p><p>Her job was her life now, but she also made sure to take time out for her physical and mental health.</p><p>She had just finished taking a shower, after returning from he workout, a cold glass of water in her hand, a few reports spread on her kitchen table to go over that weekend, when the intercom beeped, telling her someone was wanting to see her.</p><p>“This is Blair, how can I help you?”</p><p>“Blair, it's your mother. May I come up?”</p><p>Blair looked momentarily dumbfounded. Her mother hadn't contacted her since just before Jo had vanished, Monica Warner having had a baby in that time frame, and suddenly she was here. Despite Blair's anger, she kept her cool and composure. Blair depressed the button that would allow someone to come through the security door to the complex.</p><p>A few minutes later, she opened the door to see her mother in front of her, with a small child holding her hand.</p><p>“Well, aren't you going to invite I and your sister in, Blair?”</p><p>Blair didn't say a word, but allowed Monica and Bailey to pass into the dwelling.</p><p>Monica eyed the apartment, nodding in approval. “Small, but tastefully decorated and appointed.”</p><p>Moving immediately to the couch in the living room, Monica took a seat with the child, Blair following behind them.</p><p>“Aren't you going to introduce me, mother?” Blair's voice was frosty, to say the least.</p><p>“Oh, good gracious me, yes, I'm so sorry, darling.” She looked at Blair. “Blair, this is your little sister, Bailey.” She then looked at the beautiful little girl. “Bailey, this is your big sister, Blair.”</p><p>For a moment, Bailey looked almost frightened, but when Blair extended her warmest, brightest smile to the little girl, she relaxed, Blair kneeling down in front of her.</p><p>“Bailey”, Blair said with thick emotion, “I'm so happy to finally meet my little sister. Can I have a hug?”</p><p>The little girl nodded, giving Blair a brief, tentative squeeze, but smiling at the blonde when she released her. “Hi Bair..”</p><p>Blair laughed delightedly, wiping a tear from her eye. “You're a very beautiful little girl, Bailey.”</p><p>“Just like Bair...”</p><p>Blair laughed again. “Yes, just like Blair.”</p><p>Blair retrieved drinks for both of her visitors and herself, then sat in the chair across from them. “So, mother, I don't hear anything for three years from you-Daddy had to tell me about Bailey, and...well, here you are?”</p><p>“Yes, well”, Monica said, clearing her throat, “here I am. Is there something wrong with me coming to visit my daughter?”</p><p>“Mother, I'm not going to get into an argument with you in front of my sister, whom I just met, even though she's three now, but as bad as the last three years have been, I find it amazing you only now have found time for me.”</p><p>“Blair, dear, I'm concerned about you, and have been for some time. You're obviously doing well at the company. I am a major stockholder, as you know, and I'm proud of the fact that you've been turning heads, not just inside Warner, but in the business world as a whole. But...”</p><p>Blair interrupted her. “I knew there was an ulterior motive”, she said with some disgust. “There always with you, Mother.”</p><p>“Dear, it's not an ulterior motive. But there is more to life beyond business. You do remember that you have a fortune waiting for you when you turn thirty, that becomes yours if...”</p><p>Again, Blair shut her down. “If I'm married and have a child by then, yes, I know Mother.” Blair stood up, taking a sip of her drink while doing so. “Mother, I'm already worth a fortune since turning twenty-one. You can't touch that money now.”</p><p>“No, that's true, Blair”, Monica said calmly, “but I would like a grandchild or two. Is there anything wrong with that?”</p><p>“As far as it goes? No, there is nothing wrong with that. But you're more worried how you will look to your high-society friends, aren't you? This is about Jo, isn't it?”</p><p>“Why would it be about her?” Monica stood from her seat as well. “I'm sorry that things turned out for Jo the way they have, Blair, but it seems like you're pining for your little ruffian to come home to you.”</p><p>Had Bailey not been in the room, Blair would have slapped her mother for that comment. In fact, she thought, she still might. “You're no different than Jo's parents, you know that?”</p><p>That observation shocked Monica. “You're comparing <em>me</em> to someone barely getting by in The Bronx? How dare you, Blair!”</p><p>“Get off your high horse, Mother”, Blair said with a bitter laugh. “Her parents were more worried about what others would think of them because Jo came out to them as a lesbian, than how their actions would affect Jo. You? You aren't concerned about me. You're concerned how snobs will look at you.”</p><p>Monica took a step closer to her oldest daughter. “Blair, I'm simply trying to impress on you the fact that you need to move forward, and get on with your life! You need to find an honorable man to marry, and have children with. It isn't for me, but for the future of our family. Why is that a problem?”</p><p>The light finally went on inside of Blair's mind. “You believe I'm a lesbian...don't you?” The amused smile on Blair's face belied the tone of her question.</p><p>“Blair, from what I've heard, you've barely looked at a man, let alone dated once since Jo vanished. Why shouldn't I be concerned?"</p><p>Blair took a menacing step toward her Mother, glancing over at her little sister, who looked a little nervous about all the fuss. “Mother, I don't consider myself a lesbian, but I can tell you unequivocally that I still love Jo with all my heart. I'd give everything to find her and bring her home. But that doesn't necessarily mean I'm in love with her, as she is....was, with me.” Blair relaxed a little. “I'm just not sure what I want for my future right now, Mother. I know, as far as my career, that it's with the company, but on a personal level? I don't know. Perhaps I will find someone who sweeps me off my feet, and someday, I'll marry and have children with. But I'm only in my mid twenties, and I'm in no hurry.”</p><p>“I just don't want you to waste your life waiting on that delinquent girl to show back up and...”</p><p>Despite the presence of her little sister, that was too much for Blair. She slapped her mother hard across the face, Monica looking stunned as her face reddened from the blow.</p><p>“I can't believe how heartless you are, Mother. If Jo's even alive, I can't imagine what she's going through. Her parents, her Church, and her entire neighborhood humiliated her, and she felt she couldn't tell me how she felt, but don't ever call her something like that-<em>ever</em>.”</p><p>Blair stepped back from her mother. “Despite what Jo might be going through, she has more humanity inside of her than you do, Mother, and you don't know how much it hurts me to say that. You'd be just as happy if Jo were dead, wouldn't you?”</p><p>Monica didn't reply, although Blair could see she thought about some kind of retort. “I'm sorry that's how you feel, Blair. It was pointless for me to come here and try to talk some sense into you. You know how the world we live in works. If you don't get married and have a child by the time you're thirty, you forfeit $400 million.”</p><p>“I've discovered something in the years since I started at Eastland, Mother, and most especially discovered it since Jo entered my life. Money isn't everything. It isn't close to everything. It's nice to have, but you're a living example of the fact that it can't make one happy or satisfied.” The rebuke was, and was meant to be, another slap in the face. “Jo, Mrs. Garrett, Tootie, and Natalie taught me that how someone treats other people defines them far more than money. Jo taught me the value of hard work insofar as my studies went. She taught me that the loyalty and love of a friend is precious and that no monetary value can be placed on it. She taught me that I have value far beyond being a debutante, and she helped make me a better person.”</p><p>Blair moved toward the window, looking out of it for a moment, here eyes scanning the horizon beyond, hoping maybe her words would find her best friend. “She taught me you can only receive love and respect if you yourself give it back in return.” She turned to Monica. “I don't know exactly how I feel about Jo. As far as I know, she's dead, but I keep hoping and praying she's alive. But no matter what her fate, I will always love her with all my heart, with everything I am. I owe that to her, for making me a better person.”</p><p>The silence was deep and deafening for a few long minutes, Monica not wanting to challenge her daughter's missive.</p><p>Finally Monica went back to where Bailey was sitting. “Bailey, dear, it's time for you and mommy to go, dear.” She looked back at Blair. “I see it was a mistake coming here to try and reason with you, Blair.”</p><p>“It wasn't a mistake, Mother”, Blair said softly. “I've been expecting this from you. I love you, Mother”, she said, her eyes turning glassy, “and I desperately want to know my little sister, but I won't be pressured by you, or anyone else, to live your desires through me. I'm my own woman. Perhaps, someday, you'll realize that, Mother. You and Bailey will always be welcome in my life, but please, remember that it is <em>my life, </em>not yours.”</p><p>Blair worked her way over to the toddler, that reminded Blair so much of her younger self. She took a knee in front of Bailey. “I'm so glad we met, Bailey. I hope you and I can spend some time together in the future. I want to get to know my little sister.”</p><p>“Bye, Bair”, Bailey said, thoroughly confused by the visit. “I see you again.”</p><p>Blair kissed the little girl on the cheek. She stood up facing her mother, putting hands on Monica's shoulders. “I do love you, Mother. Please remember that.” She leaned in and kissed Monica on the cheek she had slapped. “Please think about what I've said today?”</p><p>Without a word, Monica took Bailey's hand, and went to the door, Bailey turning around to look at Blair as the door closed behind her.</p><p>When she was sure that her mother and sister were gone, Blair sat down on the couch and wept.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Three Days Later</p><p> </p><p>David Warner was finishing his Monday afternoon, ready to head to a business dinner that night for many of the company's world-wide executives at Peter Luger's in Brooklyn. David Warner felt that it was important to reward those who worked the hardest-and the smartest-for his company, and a thrice-yearly dinner at the famed Brooklyn steakhouse was one of the ways for him to show it.</p><p>So far, it had been an outstanding year for Warner International in almost every facet. The corporation, with a wide variety of business ventures across the globe, was now a juggernaut, but a Corporation that was seen as having a heart, and as solid an ethical reputation as any such conglomerate on Earth. He was proud of what he had turned his father's empire into.</p><p>The affair didn't start til 8pm, and it was only 4pm, but always liked to arrive early, to talk to the restaurant manager and staff, and to greet the attendees personally. It was the kind of touch that fostered such a good work climate at Warner International.</p><p>As he was preparing to depart, a call came in on his direct line. The number was a familiar one: Dennis Levine, Vice-President of Corporate Security. He had known Dennis since his own early days at Warner, and the two were good friends. Dennis wasn't from the circles that the Warner's had associated with, but he was a solid, no-nonsense guy, who was trusted implicitly by the CEO. They talked at least three or four times a week, and Dennis was to be at the dinner that night.</p><p>“Hey, Dennis”, David said pleasantly. Dennis was no-nonsense, but he was also easy-going when away from work. His voice this day, however, was quite serious.</p><p>“David, I know you're just heading out for the dinner, but I needed to tell you I received a report via the NYPD. Seems in Metro Dallas, the body of a female fitting Jo Polniaczek's description was found today in a lake. It's decomposed, but definitely female. I've contacted the DPD and told them of our interest in this one.”</p><p>“Jesus”, David Warner breathed. “How long until they know something?”</p><p>“Probably tomorrow, at the earliest. The NYPD has sent over fingerprints they have on file for Jo when she was younger. Haven't heard if there is enough for a match.”</p><p>“I hope to Christ this isn't...” He paused for a moment. “Any idea if the media here in New York have learned about it?”</p><p>“There's some damn good reporters that have their sources in the precincts and downtown. It's a good bet, with a New York angle, it'll be on the news somewhere tonight or in the morning.”</p><p>“You still coming to the dinner tonight, Dennis?”</p><p>“No, I apologize, David”, the man said sincerely. “I know how high priority Ms. Polniaczek's case is for you and your daughter. I'm gonna head downtown and talk to the Chief, and see if he can shake anything more from Dallas.”</p><p>“All of a sudden, I don't have an appetite, Dennis”, the CEO said darkly. “If this is...if it's Jo, Blair is going to be a mess. But I gotta go, Dennis.”</p><p>“I know you do, Boss”, the VP said to David. “You want me to notify Blair of what's going on?”</p><p>David thought on that one for a few moments. “I'd hate for her to hear it from WABC or one of the other stations, to be honest. Can you hold on for a moment, Dennis?”</p><p>David put his VP on hold, to find out if Blair was still in the building. She was. He knew Dennis wasn't, as Dennis's Security department was housed in another high-rise ten minutes away.</p><p>“Dennis, if you can make it down here, we can tell her together.”</p><p>“Consider it done, Boss”, the man said with conviction. “I think I'll stop by at St. Patrick's tonight and say a few prayers.”</p><p>“Dennis, you're Jewish for cryin out loud.”</p><p>Despite the situation, Levine chuckled. “I know, but it never hurts to light a votive candle, does it? But I'm praying it isn't her.”</p><p>A half hour later, the Vice-President of Corporate Security was in David's office. When he arrived, David called for his daughter to join him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>If you're wondering why my first story is back on top of my list from updates, it's because I somehow missed this chapter. Quite often, I go  through my stories to find spelling or punctuation errors that I may have made, and to tighten up the wording, and while doing so, it hit me that there's something missing, so I went back and found this chapter.</p><p>As I told you before, I'm an old geezer, and I get confused easily. I apologize for the faux pas.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>X</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Every time I think of you<br/>I always catch my breath<br/>And I'm still standing here<br/>And you're miles away<br/>And I'm wondering why you left</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And there's a storm that's raging<br/>Through my frozen heart tonight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I hear your name in certain circles<br/>And it always makes me smile </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I spend my time<br/>Thinking about you<br/>And it's almost driving me wild </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And that's my heart that's breaking<br/>Down this long distance line tonight</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Missing You”, John Waite </em></p><p> </p><p><b>It was unusual for Blair's father</b> to summon her at work, but it wasn't unheard of, either, so Blair Warner thought nothing of it. She had her own dinner planned that night with Tootie and Natalie, who were driving in from Peekskill to see their friend. Natalie was a Freshman at Langley now, Tootie a Senior at Eastland. Natalie already had feelers out for jobs as a journalist, something she had wanted to be since arriving at Eastland. She was looking forward to seeing them.</p><p>Blair was up to her father's penthouse office in a matter of minutes. When the secretary opened the door, she immediately gave her father her beautiful smile, starting to walk over to give him a hug and a kiss. She caught the figure of someone else in the room, and stopped cold when she realized who it was.</p><p>Blair's eyes widened in horror, her stomach doing back flips immediately. “Daddy, Mr. Levine...it's about Jo, isn't it?”</p><p>Dennis sat Blair down quickly in a chair across the desk that adorned her father's office, himself taking a chair next to the heiress.</p><p>“Jo's dead, isn't she?” She frantically looked around at both men. “Please tell me...Jo's.”</p><p>Dennis Levine was able to intervene at that moment. “Blair, we don't know yet, but we received a report from Dallas today.” He briefly went over the information with Blair, David also listening intently, even though he had heard the news already.</p><p>“So we just don't know, but the remains fit a general description of Jo, so, I had to bring the report to your father.”</p><p>“And I didn't want you to hear the report on the news broadcasts tonight, Princess.” David himself looked calm on the outside, but inside, he felt sick to his stomach. “We need to just wait for the information from Dallas.”</p><p>“Good God, Daddy”, Blair said. She was shaking, which prompted Levine to go into the outer office and fetch Blair a cold bottle of water in a mini fridge near the secretary's desk. “If it's Jo, I'll...”</p><p>“We'll deal with it together, honey”, her father said in as gentile a voice as Blair had ever heard. “I won't let you go through this alone, and neither will your friends.” He stopped for a moment. “You're having dinner with Tootie and Natalie tonight, aren't you?”</p><p>Blair regained her composure, but still feeling like her world was collapsing. “Yes, they've already left Peekskill to meet me at a nearby restaurant.”</p><p>“If you like, I could call The Palm on 5<sup>th</sup> and arrange a private area for you, Tootie and Nat. If you like, I could be there as well.”</p><p>Blair looked up at her father. “Isn't tonight the dinner at Luger's?”</p><p>David nodded. “Yes, but if it would make you and the girls feel better, I could attend as well. I haven't talked to Dorothy and Natalie in quite a while. Of course, if you'd rather be there with just them, I understand.”</p><p>“I'd hate for you to miss that dinner. I know how important those meetings are for you and for the company.”</p><p>David smiled while shaking his head. “Princess, you are more important than any dinner, and this whole goddamned corporation, believe me.” Next to Blair, unseen, Dennis Levine smile at the CEO's words. He approved of how David was handling this.</p><p>“OK”, Blair said finally. “Neither one of them have a cell phone that I know of yet, so I'll meet them where we were supposed to have dinner, then we'll head over to the Palm. About 7?”</p><p>“7 pm it is, my dear”, David said with a smile. “And it'll be nice to see them. I can always blow the place off when the three of you want to get into your girl talk.”</p><p>Despite the fear within her, Blair laughed at her father's remark, as did Dennis. Blair turned to the Vice-President. “Mr. Levine, you will keep us advised if anything comes up?”</p><p>“You know I will, Blair”, he said, briefly grabbing her hand. Blair smiled at the comforting gesture.</p><p>“I just hope this isn't Jo”, she said turning back to her father. “If it is, I don't know if I can get through that.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“Why are we going to The Palm, Blair?” Tootie looked at how she was dressed, then over at Natalie. “Are we even dressed good enough for The Palm?”</p><p>Blair gave a laugh that didn't quite reach her eyes, which Natalie immediately noticed, her reporter's instincts kicking in. “You're dressed fine, you two. Besides, we're dining in a private area tonight, so it'll just be us.”</p><p>Natalie noticed Blair tapping her thumbs on the steering wheel. They had transferred over to Blair's car for the drive to The Palm. Blair seemed a bit jumpy as well. Natalie remembered, from driving with Blair countless times, that she was usually at ease driving care. Not so tonight.</p><p>“Something's up...isn't it, Blair?” Natalie pinned her older friend with a hard gaze.</p><p>“All I'll say is that we have some things to discuss tonight, and I did want a little privacy. So keep your knickers on, Green.”</p><p>Tootie's instincts for such things weren't as refined, and she didn't catch the nervousness in Blair's voice. Natalie smartly dropped the line of questioning for the moment. The rest of the fifteen minute drive passed in an awkward silence.</p><p>On arrival in front of The Palm, a smartly dress Valet was at the car immediately. “Good evening, Ms. Warner”, he said with a broad smile.</p><p>“Hello, Mr. Rodriguez!” She gave him a quick hug, Natalie and Tootie exchanging small glances. “It's been too long since I've seen you! How are your wife and kids?”</p><p>“Thank you for asking, Ms. Warner”, he said with equal warmness. “They're all doing just wonderful. I will tell them you asked about them. From what I have been told, you're heading up to the private dining facilities, correct?”</p><p>“That's right, Mr. Rodriguez.”</p><p>“Very good. I will park your car, and Lois is at the private elevator this evening, she'll have you settled in no time. Have a wonderful evening, ladies!”</p><p>With that, the man was in the car and taking it to the Valet parking area, while the three ladies hustled into the building. There was an elevator to private dining areas, exclusively for VIP's, of which the Warner's certainly were, and in minutes, they arrived and were led into the private dining area assigned for them.</p><p>Tootie and Natalie were both surprised to see a familiar face smiling at them as they entered. “Mr. Warner!” Both girls exclaimed his name at the exact same moment, David approaching them, and embracing them each.</p><p>“Natalie. Dorothy”, he said, fighting off the emotion he was feeling with the news of the day. “It's so good to see both of you. You both look absolutely fantastic!”</p><p>Natalie hit Tootie softly on the arm. “Why can't we get guys our age to talk to us like that, Tootie? How come?”</p><p>“Because...guys our age are a bunch of idiots?”</p><p>Natalie beamed at her friend, then at Mr. Warner. “Exactly! What a world.” Everyone laugh, which broke the obvious tension for a few moments.</p><p>David made sure to hold the chair out for all three of the ladies, then took his seat. A waitress was already with them, and she took the orders for drinks and appetizers, then exited the room.</p><p>“Mr. Warner, we were expecting dinner somewhere else”, Tootie explained, “not at The Palm. Is there a reason for the last-minute change?”</p><p>David smiled at the two, but again Natalie noticed how pensive Blair was, but like in the car, she didn't push it.</p><p>“As soon as our drinks arrive, I will advise you about my presence.”</p><p>It didn't take long for the drinks to arrive, Blair and her father both ordering wine, while the other two, still underage for drinking alcohol, each had a Pepsi. After a few pleasantries, no one was surprised when Natalie spoke up.</p><p>“OK, I've noticed Blair has been acting weird. Well”, she amended quickly, “weirder than normal that is. And while you, Mr. Warner, are always the perfect gentleman, my reporter antennas tells me something is afoot.”</p><p>“You're so dramatic, Nat”, Tootie said <em>sotto voce, </em>earning her a glare from her best friend.</p><p>“Yes, there is a reason why you're at The Palm tonight. He took a sip of his wine, looked over at his daughter, squeezed her hand, and proceeded to fill in the other two young women on what had transpired. To say the two didn't take it well was an understatement.</p><p>Natalie had to get up, and went to the window overlooking the scenery outside. Tootie was in tears, Blair trying to comfort her, her own tears making that difficult.</p><p>“Now, as I said”, David said after a brief respite from talking, “we don't know if it's Jo that was found, but I wasn't about to let Blair, nor the two of you, find this out from the news. Whatever the outcome of this, we will get through this together, is that understood?”</p><p>Natalie turned back around, a few tears on her face, but she nodded her head resolutely and returned to the table.</p><p>Tootie finally calmed down, as the appetizers were brought in. At first even the Warner CEO didn't want to eat anything, but after the waitress left, Natalie looked around the table. “May I say a few words?” David inclined his head. “I refuse to believe this is Jo. Maybe I'm wrong...God, I hope I'm wrong, but whatever we find out, we're hear for each other.” She again looked around the table. “Now, may I propose a toast to our missing friend, Jo. We love you, Jo. We always will.”</p><p>They silently raised their glasses to their friend.</p><p>After Natalie's toast, it seemed as if a great weight was lifted from everyone in the room. David encouraged Natalie and Tootie to fill he and Blair in on the latest at Eastland and Langley. The four of them were smiling and laughing as the night moved on.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>David excused himself halfway through their dinner, informing them that he had to make an appearance in Brooklyn at his Corporate dinner. The two visitors gave him strong, emotional hugs, the CEO telling them again that they would not be alone, if worse came to worse. The three friends spent another ninety minutes talking and reminiscing, much of the memories revolving around Jo.</p><p>They were slated to spend the night at Blair's apartment, but with the events of the day, Natalie suggested they drive to Peekskill, and inform Mrs. Garrett, if she didn't already know. Natalie called Mrs. Garrett from the restaurant, and asked her if she could be up when they got there. Since it was a Friday night, and it had been a while since she had seen Blair, Edna was delighted with the news.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Mrs. Garrett was, like the other three, frantic at the news that Jo could have been found dead in Texas, but like her younger friends, she refused to give up all hope. Blair had left a message with her father that she was in Peekskill through the weekend should any news arise on the case in Dallas.</p><p>The four of them rallied to each other, staying up a good portion of the night, sharing stories, even if they had heard them a hundred times, laughing, drinking lemonade, and having a wonderful time. Yet all of them felt, in the back of their minds, the dread that could come in the next few days.</p><p>Finally, about 4am, they were all absolutely exhausted, physically and emotionally from the events of the last twenty-four hours, and they finally retired, Blair going to the guest bedroom that she thought of as a second home.</p><p>After showering and changing into a nightgown, Blair did something she rarely did, even after more than three years since Jo went missing. She got down on her knees, and prayed.</p><p>“Lord, you know I've had kind of an on again/off again relationship with You over the years, but I figure, after all this time, with my best friend being away for so long, that it can't hurt to offer up a prayer to You for Jo. We don't know right now if she's alive or dead. If...if the worst has come to pass, please keep her always in Your loving arms. If, by some miracle this isn't her that was found, and she is still alive, please watch over her, and let her know, somehow, and some way, that she is not alone-that she will never be alone. Amen.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>No word arrived on Saturday, making the four women even more concerned. Blair decided to help out running Edna's Edibles that day, enjoying the company of her friends, and serving customers as she had done at one time. She even recognized a few of the faces that came into the shop. It had kept her spirits from completely deflating. That night Edna made a fantastic meal for all of them, as they regaled each other some more.</p><p>At around 9:30am the next morning, while they were all eating breakfast-Edna had closed the shop for this particular Sunday, sensing they would hear something, her phone rang. It made all four women jump, as their nerves were definitely frayed.</p><p>“Hello....Yes, this is Edna Garrett....Oh, yes, Mr. Levine, would you like to talk to Blair or...”</p><p>Hearing the name of the VP of Security, Blair froze, making Natalie and Tootie do the same.</p><p>“Yes, Blair is here, but if...well, yes, of course I can relay the information.” Edna sat down-just in case. “Uh huh...oh, my goodness! No, no, thank you so much, Mr. Levine. Your call is appreciated.”</p><p>As Edna turned to them, there were tears in her eyes, but as she looked, a broad smile came across her face. “It wasn't Jo”, she said in a shaky, but obviously relieved voice.</p><p>Mrs. Garrett rose, the other three coming to her, crying happy, but still very bitter tears. They full well knew that Jo could still be dead-they had no word at all about her for three years, but to know that, at least in this case, it wasn't their beloved friend, they rejoiced at the news.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>XI</p><p> </p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>I was bruised and battered</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I couldn't tell what I felt</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I was unrecognizable to myself</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Saw my reflection in the window</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Didn't know my own face</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Oh brother, are you gonna leave me</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Wasting away</em>
  <br/>
  <em>On the streets of Philadelphia</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Ain't no angels gonna greet me</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It's just you and I my friend</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And my clothes don't fit me no more</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I walked a thousand miles</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Just to slip this skin</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>The Streets of Philadelphia, Bruce Springsteen </em></p><p> </p><p>One Year Later</p><p> </p><p>“<b>Tootie, Mrs. Garrett!</b>” Natalie Green couldn't wait to share the news with her best friend and her second mom.</p><p>“In the living room, Nat”, Dorothy Ramsey, nicknamed Tootie, yelled a little too loud, making Edna Garrett, fondly known as Mrs. G, star daggers at her.</p><p>“You guys, they hired me!”</p><p>“Oh, my God, Nat! You mean the <em>Denver Post</em>?” Tootie was on her feet.</p><p>Natalie was only a Sophomore at Langley College in Peekskill, New York, but even though she was two years from graduating, she had sent out copies of her work to newspapers around the country. She was always hoping to get a job, and then to finish her education.</p><p>“Yes!” Natalie danced happily around the room, Tootie behind her, acting like they did years ago when they were little girls starting out at Eastland.</p><p>“Natalie, that's wonderful!” Mrs. Garrett finally corralled her and gave her a big hug. “I'm so proud of you!”</p><p>“When are you gonna start?” Tootie always asked the obvious questions.</p><p>“In October”, Natalie confirmed. “They want me to finish the school year, then I'll head on out there. They want me to enroll at the University of Denver, which has an excellent Journalism program, and get my degree there in a few years, but they want me this fall.”</p><p>“Any idea what they'll be having you doing, Natalie?”</p><p>Natalie finally calmed down, sitting next to Mrs. Garrett on the sofa. “They want me to be doing human interests story, mostly in the Denver area, and perhaps going to other cities as well. I've already talked to my editor, and told her that one of the first stories I want to dig in is the homeless crisis, not just in Denver, but in the nation as a whole.”</p><p>“That's pretty ambitious”, Mrs. Garrett said with admiration. “I would doubt you'd be the only one on the story?”</p><p>“No, if it goes through, I'll be part of a larger effort, with more senior reporters working on it as well, but the editor loved the idea.”</p><p>“Something that hits close to home”, Tootie said softly.</p><p>The other two women sadly nodded, coming down from the high of the news.</p><p>It was now four years since one of their best friends, Jo Polniaczek, had vanished into thin air, after her family had disowned her for being a lesbian. They had cut Jo off from them, her neighborhood, and even her Church, leaving a desperate Jo with the thought that the only answer was to disappear.</p><p>The biggest reason she had vanished, however, wasn't her family, although that played a large role in her decision. The biggest reason is that Jo had fallen in love with her long-time roommate, best friend, and sometimes best pain-in-the-ass, Blair Warner, the heiress to the Warner International Corporation, and the Warner family. It had gotten to the point, especially after her family turned their backs on her, that she simply didn't think she could live with Blair any longer without ruining their friendship.</p><p>“I've been wanting to do this, not just for Jo and for us, but for everyone who has had a family member run away because of one thing or another. Maybe if I'm lucky, it will lead me to Jo.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Phoenix, Arizona</p><p> </p><p>It was almost time for Jo to move on again. For the past four years, every four to six months, Jo would pack what little she had, and move on to another city, not daring to stay in one place very long. She had been in Phoenix long enough, and as the scorching hot summer approached, she would be looking for more hospitable climates. San Diego was on her mind.</p><p>She was still at around one hundred pounds, still skin and bones, still wondering what the hell she was doing, but knowing, at least in hear long-destroyed heart, that she couldn't go back. Not any more.</p><p>She was certain by now that Blair had moved beyond mourning the loss of her best friend, same with Natalie and Tootie. To make sure her heart didn't break, she never read any newspapers, knowing it was possible that Blair's name would show up on the gossip circuit, being the daughter of a corporate mogul and billionaire.</p><p><em>I'm sure Blair's found a guy who treats like she deserves, </em>Jo thought to herself, between large swigs of whiskey, which helped her pass the time and deaden her emotions. <em>She deserves to be treated like a Princess. But God, I'll always love her.</em></p><p>“Hey kid”, a fellow squatter said to her, “what are youse mumbling about over there?”</p><p>Jo looked over at the older man, who had a long reddish beard, obviously a grizzled veteran of a hobo's life. “None of your beeswax”, she said in reply, her old Bronx accent appearing. “Mind your own business.”</p><p>“You know, I ain't seen you around these parts, lady”, the man said with an edge to his voice. “You new here?”</p><p>“I don't stay around long enough to be new anywhere, pal. Just blow off.”</p><p>Jo had argued with guys and gals like this before since her exile. It had sometimes ended in a mild fight, but nothing Jo Polniaczek couldn't handle. The old geezer stood up, Jo's eyes widening a bit seeing that this guy was very tall, and he looked pissed.</p><p>“No young bitch talks to me like that, girlie. You need to mind your manners.”</p><p>Jo laughed. “I'm in the middle of a fuckin' dump, barely alive, and you're worried about manners? You're an idiot.”</p><p>Before Jo realized anything else, the guy was on top of her, wailing away on her, pulling her up onto her feet. He landed several hard blows to her head, letting her hit the ground with a thud, then he kicked her several times in the ribs, Jo moaning in agony.</p><p>Despite the beating, she continued to mock him. “You talk about manners, then you go fuckin' beating up a girl. Yeah, some manners.”</p><p>As she was turning her head to laugh at him, the man's boot caught Jo square in the back of the head, her world going dark.<br/><br/></p><hr/><p> </p><p>Waking up a few hours later, probably with a concussion, Jo was grateful she had stashed her now-rundown purse at her little dwelling a few blocks away. Unfortunately, he booze was gone, as was her syringe and he small stash of heroin. The former she could get almost any time-cheap booze was easy to come by, but if she didn't get a new syringe, needles, and a fix pretty soon...</p><p>She had never gone through withdrawal since she started shooting heroin. She had started two years earlier, after getting extremely drunk one night. She was lucky it didn't kill her, but once the effects of heroin grabbed most individuals, they didn't want to let it go. Yet she had witnessed someone going through withdrawal, and it wasn't pretty. She'd rather not go through that particular hell, although when Jo stopped to think of the hell she had been in for four years now, maybe simply stopping cold turkey would be a small price.</p><p>Unfortunately, for most people, their mind didn't work that way once they started down the path of addiction. Desperation drove one to ridiculous depths that, in a normal life, one would never even contemplate. Within a few hours, Jo had a new syringe, a box of needles, and a supply of heroin to last her for a while.</p><p>Three days later, after the effects of her beating began to subside, she boarded a bus for San Diego.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>December, Denver</p><p> </p><p>Natalie Green was several months into her assignment with the <em>Denver Post</em> as a human interest writer. The Managing Editor who had hired her insisted she finish her degree, but had been so impressed with her writing skills that she had offered Natalie a job at the end of her Sophomore year at Langley College in New York. Natalie was being eased into her role, more often than not, teaming up with a more experienced journalist to help hone her craft.</p><p>The Managing Editor, Rachel Schofield, had never worked for any other place but the <em>Denver Post</em>, starting at the very bottom some twenty-five years earlier and working her way up, until, with the exception of the owner of the paper, she was the top of the pyramid. Like Natalie, she had started as a writer, and recognized a little of herself in the young New Yorker.</p><p>Natalie was just finishing up for the day, when The Boss dropped in.</p><p>“Mrs. Schofield”, Natalie said, coming to her feet in a sign of respect.</p><p>Rachel smiled. “I'm not the President of the United States, Natalie. You don't need to rise when I enter. A bow will do.”</p><p>Natalie snorted an un-ladylike laugh. “I'll learn to curtsy then, thanks.”</p><p>“How's your piece on the model air show coming along?”</p><p>Natalie had never known that there was a boatload of people all over the world, that built model airplanes-not airplanes from little kits, but large, scale models of commercial jets, or fighter jets, that had actual working engines, flaps, and the like. Some of the models were worth upwards of $35,000. The largest RC (Radio-Controlled) aircraft in the world was a 1:13 scale Virgin Atlantic Airways Boeing 747-400. It had been the big draw at the recently completed Denver show.</p><p>“Should be finished up by tomorrow”, Natalie informed her boss. As the low person on the totem pole, she had the job of putting it all together, then submitting it to Rachel for final approval. It was arduous work, but Natalie didn't mind.</p><p>“I've never had the chance to go out and see one of those shows, Nat. You sound pretty blown away by it.”</p><p>“Well, yeah”, Nat said, her eyes widening. “The RC fighter aircraft sound almost like the real thing. It's pretty freakin' cool.”</p><p>Rachel laughed, then became serious. “I'm going to have a meeting with multiple departments in about two weeks. I want to finally pull the trigger on the series we want to do on the homeless situation.”</p><p>“That's good”, Natalie said quietly, the excitement in her voice gone for the moment.</p><p>“When you talked to me about that idea before I hired you, I could sense you had a personal interest in it.”</p><p>“Very personal, Mrs. Schofield.” Natalie spent the next twenty minutes giving her an account of Jo Polniaczek, and how to this day it hurt Natalie deeply.</p><p>“About a year ago, we thought she was dead. There was a body discovered in Dallas that matched a description of Jo, but...thankfully, at least for us, it wasn't her. I wish we knew if she were dead or alive, just to find some peace about it, you know?”</p><p>Rachel sadly nodded. Hearing Natalie's story, Rachel was more anxious to get going on the story. “I wonder, Natalie, when we really start getting this together, if you think it would be OK to have someone go back to New York, to interview your friends, and even Mrs. Garrett, as background on the story?”</p><p>“I think they'd be more than willing to do that, Mrs. Schofield”, Natalie assured her. “I'm not sure about her family, or the Pastor at her Church, but I know Blair and Tootie would see it as a way to reach out to Jo.”</p><p>“I'll work on arranging that”, the boss said. “Part of me would love to send you, but that might be too emotional at this time.”</p><p>“I think you're right”, Natalie said unevenly. “Sorry, but even saying Jo's name is painful.”</p><p>“I get it, Nat. I can't imagine it from a personal perspective. If we can help one homeless person, or their family, or their friends, then it's going to be worth the effort.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>XII</p><p> </p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Somewhere out there</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Beneath the pale moonlight</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Someone's thinking of me</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And loving me tonight</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Somewhere out there</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Someone's saying a prayer</em>
  <br/>
  <em>That we'll find one another</em>
  <br/>
  <em>In that big somewhere out there</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And even though I know</em>
  <br/>
  <em>How very far apart we are</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It helps to think we might be wishing</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Under the same bright star</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And when the night wind</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Starts to sing a lonesome lullaby</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It helps to think we're sleeping</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Underneath the same big sky...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Somewhere Out There, Linda Ronstadt &amp; James Ingram, Jr.</em>
</p><p> </p><p>Manhattan, Present Day</p><p> </p><p><b>The Celebration for Blair's promotion</b> to Vice-President was well underway. It was an easy, low-key party, Blair wanting it that way. Besides having her father present, the most important guests were Mrs. Garrett, Dorothy, and Natalie.</p><p>Dorothy was a junior at Langley, studying theater and drama, her lifelong dream of being an actress coming into focus. Natalie was now established as a reporter with the <em>Denver Post</em>, and loving life in the foothills of the majestic Rocky Mountains. Mrs. Garrett was still running Edna's Edibles in Peekskill, although she had been contemplating retirement. She had earned it, she full well knew. The last five years, since Jo had gone missing, had aged her more than she cared to admit.</p><p>“Blair”, Mrs. Garrett said, finally getting an opportunity to congratulate her surrogate daughter, “I'm so very proud of you.” She gave the blonde a kiss on the cheek, and a loving embrace.</p><p>“Mrs. Garrett”, Blair replied, happy tears in her eyes, “I'm not standing here without your help over the years. I mean that with all my heart.”</p><p>“Oh, now you've done it', the older woman said with a laugh. “I didn't want to bawl today.” Both of them laughed, continuing to hug. “Thanks a lot, Warner.” Blair gave Mrs. Garrett a return kiss on the cheek.</p><p>In her wake, Tootie and Natalie came up, both of them looking conspiratorially at each other, then giving a mock bow before their older friend. Blair just rolled her eyes and laughed, the two long-time friends enveloping her in a group hug.</p><p>“You two haven't changed since the day I met you”, Blair said, laughing, kissing them both on the cheek. “The Snoop Sisters.”</p><p>“Yeah, isn't it cool?” Tootie winked at Blair, laughing as she did so.</p><p>“That's us, Tootie! Amazing that we're still as conniving, as mischievous, as resourceful...”</p><p>“As infuriating”, Mrs. Garrett said with a wry look, breaking it.</p><p>“That was my next adjective, Mrs. Garrett”, Natalie said deadpan, causing a new round of laughter.</p><p>Blair had already made the rounds in the large hotel conference room, and indicated for her friends to sit down with her. A waiter brought champagne to the table. Appetizers were to follow shortly.</p><p>“May I have the honor of making a toast?” Mrs. Garrett cleared her throat. “To Blair Warner. Honey, to see how far you have come -not just in your career, but as a wonderful, caring, loving woman, it's been one of the joys of my life. To you, Blair.” She raised her glass, Blair smiling brightly.</p><p>“To Blair”, Dorothy and Nat said in unison, the four of them lightly touching their flutes of champagne.</p><p>“Although she can still be a Princess”, Natalie said with another deadpan expression, making Tootie and Mrs. Garrett chuckle. However the use of the name “Princess” suddenly made Blair Warner almost cry. The other three saw it, and knew why.</p><p>“Then may I make my own toast”, Blair said. The look on her face took the breath away from the other three. It was filled with a tenderness in her eyes that none of them had ever seen. Mrs. Garrett, seeing this, knowing what Blair's toast was going to be about, had finally realized-as she had suspected Blair had finally realized-how she felt about Jo Polniaczek. “To Jo”, Blair began, not being ashamed to let her tears fall. “I miss you, Jo, you grease monkey, and have every day that you've been gone. I still pray that someday, you'll come home. I miss you."</p><p>“To Jo”, the other three said, soft tears cascading.</p><p>“To Jo”, another voice said behind Blair.</p><p>“Mr. Warner”, Edna said in mild surprise. “Uh, I mean, David, how nice to see you.”</p><p>David went over to Edna, who rose from her seat, and gave her a sweet kiss on the cheek, making her blush. He then greeted Dorothy and Natalie.</p><p>“Were you eavesdropping on my toast, Daddy?” Even with tears still in her eyes, she gave her father a mock glare.</p><p>He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Guilty as charged, my dear.” She gave him a huge hug, smiling into it. “And I must say, it was the best toast I think I've ever heard.”</p><p>Blair blushed, making Tootie snicker, the other three ladies giving her their own evil eye.</p><p>“I know Blair just sat down with you, ladies, but might I borrow her for just a few minutes.”</p><p>“Of course. David”, Edna replied. “After all, she's your daughter. She's your family.”</p><p>“And I should not have to remind you, Edna”, David Warner said with a smirk, looking at the other three ladies, “that you three are just as much her family as I am. Please, never forget that. But I promise I'll have her right back.”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>David escorted his daughter to a private room just off the main conference room, where there was a large desk, and even a telephone. David had simply wanted a moment alone with his only child.</p><p>“I'd say the party is a success, don't you, Princess?”</p><p>Blair laughed. “I think it is. It's still a bit overwhelming, even if I've been around such madness my whole life.”</p><p>David laughed heartily. “That's true, but when it's focused on you, it can be a bit intimidating. Every time it's 'in my honor', it scares the hell out of me.”</p><p>Blair looked genuinely surprised. “Really? You never could tell, Daddy. You always look cools as a cucumber.”</p><p>“Believe it, honey. I've had years of dealing with it. I'd rather recognize others than to have them fawn all over me.”</p><p>“I don't think that's why you pulled me in here, Daddy, is it?” Her eyes twinkled at him.</p><p>“No, it's not”, he said softly. “I was watching you, and listening to you, when you made that toast to Jo. It truly was beautiful. And I could tell the look on your face was...” Even David choked up at what he had heard and seen. “May I be so bold to opine that, after five years of going through this heartache, I believe you finally have come to terms with your feelings for Jo?”</p><p>Blair was quiet for a few moments. Through the half-decade since Jo had vanished, Blair had tried hard not to think of her feelings for her best friend, even as she prayed every day for Jo's safe return. She knew that her feelings had changed.</p><p>Or had they?</p><p>Blair had always wondered about her boy-crazy days at Eastland and Langley, and yet she had never done more than kiss a boy. She had made some good friends from some of the boys she had casually dated, and had made enemies of others, like Brock Worthington. Yet she had to admit that, from the moment she met Jo, she found something thrilling about her rival-turned-friend. Maybe it was because she was so different than Blair herself, and did things that Blair, coming from high society, could never get away with. Add to the fact that the former gang leader was brilliantly intelligent, and was loyal to a fault. Blair had discovered someone that had become precious to her.</p><p>Yet Blair Warner couldn't remember ever having romantic feelings for Jo. She certainly found Jo incredibly attractive. Jo was athletic, very fit, but also had enough curves to attract attention when she chose to not dress in an androgynous manner. Yet she had been engaged to Eddie Brennan? Was that all for show? Was it to placate her parents, who obviously had more than a little trouble with Jo's sexuality?</p><p>Yet her father's question brought it-finally-to the forefront of Blair's consciousness. What <em>did </em>she feel for Jo? She certainly loved Jo dearly, but was it love beyond friendship, or did she think it was love beyond friendship, simply because Jo had been gone five years, and Blair still ached to have her friend back? And in the end, with Jo gone, seemingly for good, did it really matter</p><p>“I know I love Jo with all my heart, Daddy, but I don't want to get my hopes up. I mean, it's been five years...” Blair choked back the tears. “Five years since she left. We don't even know if she's alive”, Blair continued. “I know if she came back, I'd forgive her without hesitation, and do whatever I can to help her. But right now, I just have to protect my heart, in case...”</p><p>“I understand, Blair”, her father said sadly. “I hope to hell that news never reaches us, but it is a possibility. There's nothing wrong with protecting your heart, but keep part of your heart open in case she does come back, or is found, because I have a feeling”, David concluded with a smile, “that if she ever does come home, you'll never let her out of your sight again.”</p><p>Blair's eyes widened at that remark. Was it that simple? Would it simply take Jo showing back up for Blair to finally accept her love for Jo?</p><p>“You might be right, Daddy”, she said, but with an impish grin, “although you make me sound like a stalker.”</p><p>David laughed, seeing her sudden change in mood. “That's more like it. But also remember, if Jo does turn up, we don't have any idea what she's been through, or what her physical and mental state is. If we find her, you're going to have to be incredibly patient with her.”</p><p>“I know”, Blair said, a smile still on her face. “Isn't that what love and friendship is about?”</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Four Weeks Later</p><p> </p><p>The project that Natalie had suggested just before joining The <em>Denver Post</em> had taken on a gargantuan life. It had evolved from simply a series planned by <em>The Post</em>, to one involving newspapers all over the country, and even <em>CNN</em>. Rachel Schofield, the Managing Editor of <em>The Post</em> had attended a conference of editors from other publications and TV/cable news outlets. While there, she had brought up the subject of their upcoming series on the homeless in America, and before leaving the conference, others were begging to be a part of it.</p><p>The logistics had finally been set up so that <em>The Post</em>, along with the <em>Los Angeles Times, San Francisco Chronicle, Miami Herald, Dallas News, Boston Globe, New York Times, Cleveland Plain Dealer</em>, and the <em>St. Louis Post-Dispatch</em>, along with <em>CNN</em>, would begin working on the story, with <em>The Post </em>being the clearing house for all the material. Final editing would be done by <em>The Denver Post</em> and <em>CNN</em>, who would run a two-hour special on the problem of homelessness on the day the first stories would be published in the newspapers.</p><p>It would take several months to put everything together, but everyone involved felt it was something that had to be done.</p><p>One of the first things <em>CNN</em> did, at the suggestion of Rachel Schofield, was to interview Blair, Tootie, Mrs. Garrett, and Natalie. Natalie was intrigued that she would be one of the people writing part of the story, but also being a part of the story. She was looking forward to the challenge.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>San Diego, California</p><p> </p><p><em>At least I don't have to worry about a fuckin' blizzard this year, </em>Jo Polniaczek, now with completely blonde hair, again cut very short, thought with a tiny bit of satisfaction. About a year ago-or was it two? She couldn't remember anymore. Whenever it was, she had spent a few bitterly cold days and nights and contended with a blizzard in Denver. San Diego had none of those problems.</p><p>If you were going to be homeless and hiding from your past, San Diego was about as good as it got. Year-round, the weather was pleasant, and the sun shone most days. No 120 degrees Fahrenheit, or -20. Usually between 65 and 80 every day, with a view of the ocean if you wanted to venture to take a look at the mighty Pacific.</p><p>Yet for Jo, five years into her self-imposed asylum, that was about the only good thing in her life. Now down to no more than ninety pounds, strung out most days on either alcohol or, occasionally, on heroin, most of her life past slowly, bitterly alone, bitterly delusional with what had become with her life, but too stubborn and, in a perverse way, too proud, to return home and have anything to do with her family.</p><p>It was near dusk, and Jo was actually on the beach-Coronado Beach, considered one of the better beaches in the area. Nestled just west of the San Diego Naval Base, and Naval Amphibious Base Coronado, the beach took up a swath of land between the Pacific and San Diego Bay. It could be a pleasant place to stay-the city even allowed the beaches to remain open after dark, and didn't mind the squatters, as long as they didn't gather in great numbers. Jo was pretty much alone on her spot, a small fire started in a pit from pieces of bark and some leaves off of nearby palm trees. It wouldn't last forever, but it would allow Jo to relax and think-neither were things she did very often.</p><p>She had cut back some on her heroin addiction. She knew she couldn't kick it without help, but she had been able to use less of it, relying more on alcohol these days to deaden her pain and loneliness. Occasionally, she had struck a friendship or two in the different cities that she had transited over the years, but usually kept to herself, as most of the homeless did, only coming into contact with others as needed, the most obvious place being a homeless shelter. She didn't frequent those, but did go usually once a week to get a shower, eat a decent meal, and even pick out some different clothes that could be available at a given shelter. But she almost never spent the night at one.</p><p>As Jo relaxed, with a fifth of bourbon sitting on her lap, she let her weary mind travel back to The Bronx, and even Peekskill. She didn't allow herself to reminisce often on those long-ago, far away places, but occasionally, she would think of Jesse, or her Uncle Sal, or her cousin Pauley. She tried to avoid thinking of her parents, although she would sometimes smile at some of the times they had spent in her younger years.</p><p>If there were any pleasant thoughts, it usually would be about Peekskill, Eastland, and Langley. It would be about Mrs. Garrett, who had meant so much to Jo, and who Jo knew she had greatly let down. Her mind would wander on her times with the Snoop Sisters, Natalie, and Tootie, and the hilarity and friendship those two had given her, even as they could also drive everyone else crazy at times.</p><p>But most of all, she thought about Blair Warner. Her beautiful Princess. Jo rarely looked at a TV or a newspaper, but she had read that, recently, Blair had made Vice-President at Warner International. She had seen a news report while in a homeless shelter one day, feeling a mixture of both immense pride in her best friend-or former best friend, she corrected herself-and abject bitterness that she was so far from the love of her life. Blair had looked as beautiful as ever. Then again, Blair had always looked beautiful.</p><p>Jo's green eyes reflected back the orange/red glow from the small fire that crackled occasionally in front of her, in her half-inebriated state, she could swear she saw Blair in those flames somehow. In their days at Eastland and Langley, Jo and Blair occasionally sang together-Blair having the far better voice, but Jo's wasn't half bad.</p><p>As the she focused on the fire, and the image of Blair she had in her mind, she absently thought of a line from a song that used to play on her mother's record player. She laughed when she thought of who sang the song-The Partridge Family-but it was a song she had always enjoyed, and she began singing one of the verses as she closed her eyes, dreaming she was with Blair.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>I left home</em>
  <br/>
  <em>It seems like a century ago</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I never thought</em>
  <br/>
  <em>That I could miss anybody so</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But now I know...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everywhere I go</em>
  <br/>
  <em>(Everywhere I go)</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Everything I do</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Every song is you</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Searched my mind just to find</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Something I always knew</em>
</p><p> </p><p>As Jo sang the song a few times, she started to drift off, finally getting one of the few decent nights' sleep that she had received for a half-decade.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>XIII</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>
  <em>Well they say that you can never</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Never go back home</em>
  <br/>
  <em>And if you're bound to wander</em>
  <br/>
  <em>You're bound to be alone</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You say I got no right</em>
  <br/>
  <em>To feel what I feel</em>
  <br/>
  <em>When I look into your eyes</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But that I dream of you</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Most every night</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Comes as no surprise</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well I've been out on the road so long</em>
  <br/>
  <em>Far and wide do I roam</em>
  <br/>
  <em>But something in your smile tells me</em>
  <br/>
  <em>I'm almost home...</em>
</p><p> </p><p>“<em>Almost Home”, Jono Manson </em></p><p> </p><p>Six Months Later</p><p> </p><p><b>Natalie Green was as excited</b> as she could ever remember. The young <em>Denver Post </em>reporter had pitched an idea just before she was hired, and to Natalie's surprise, the Managing Editor, Rachel Schofield had enthusiastically backed the idea. It hadn't been a front-burner idea at the time, but after an Editor's conference, it had become a massive undertaking by multiple newspapers throughout the country, as well as <em>CNN</em>.</p><p>Today was the first day all the newspapers were running the first in the series, called <em>“Hiding In Plain Sight: The Homeless Crisis in America.”</em></p><p>Natalie herself had done interviews in Denver and Salt Lake City, one of a bevy of reporters who would share the byline for this huge undertaking. She was immensely proud of the work she had done. It had given her an insight into, perhaps, what Jo had gone through, or what she still was going through. She had hoped that, somehow, Jo would see some of this series, and realize she could come back home.</p><p>She had also been interviewed for the story, by a journalist for the <em>New York Post</em>, and by <em>CNN</em>. Rachel had, in part as a reward to Natalie for the idea that had become such an undertaking,  wanted to have Jo's friends be a part of the story-Dorothy, Natalie, Blair, and Mrs. Garrett being part of a chorus that had seen loved ones disappear, and even die, as a result of homelessness. Everyone involved had become invested in helping the plight of those without a home.</p><p>The fact that Blair Warner, a Vice-President at Warner International, one of the largest Corporations based in the U.S, was a part of the story, was sure to draw interest in both the printed series, as well as the <em>CNN </em>series.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>“The truth about homelessness”, <em>CNN</em> Anchor Chase Whitney said during one segment on the series about the homeless, “is that it just doesn't affect the poor, the downtrodden, or the middle class. It can affect anyone.</p><p>“You would think that a Vice-President of an international corporation, and someone who, will, in all likelihood, one day be the CEO of that company, would be unaffected by this scourge on America.</p><p>“But you would be wrong.”</p><p>The video switches to images of the homeless, pushing old shopping carts full of items in them, and of those huddled around a small fire to keep warm, to a photo of the Warner International Building in Manhattan, then the image of Blair Warner, smiling and shaking hands at some function or another.</p><p>“This is Blair Warner”, the anchor continued. “The name Warner is one of the most powerful and influential names in the business world, not just in the U.S, but across the globe. She is Vice-President of Corporate Finance at Warner International Corporation, and the daughter of the CEO, David Warner. She is on the fast track to one day, succeed her father as CEO of this multi-billion dollar corporation. You would think Blair Warner, who grew up in privilege, and will never have to worry about money, would be affected personally by this crisis. But you'd be wrong.”</p><p>A camera is now on Blair, sitting in a chair, the back of the journalist to the camera as Blair begins her tale about Jo. She recalls meeting her at Eastland, and how initially they couldn't stand each other, but that, over the years at both Eastland and Langley, they had become best friends.</p><p>“Jo and I did so much together”, Blair said with a pensive look, often looking down at her fingernails, picking at them absent-mindedly. “We weren't as different as we first thought. We could have these ferocious verbal fights, but God help anyone that threatened the other. We'd have given up our lives for one another.”</p><p>“Five years ago, your friend Jo left”, the female journalist said, “and you haven't heard anything from her since. Why did she leave?”</p><p>“She had hidden from most people the fact that she was a lesbian. I didn't know it, neither did our two best friends at Eastland, nor our Housemother, Mrs. Garrett. Apparently, her parents had...” Blair paused, thinking of what Jo had written in that goodbye letter so long ago. “They had told her for years it was just a phase, but by our Sophomore year at Langley, she had personally come to terms with her sexuality, but her parents didn't.</p><p>“They basically disowned her, cutting off her funding to continue her education, and arranged for her to be excommunicated from the Catholic Church. Apparently, that same day, her parents followed through, with many of her friends from her old neighborhood knowing not only about her sexuality, but that she had been excommunicated.”</p><p>“Did she come talk to you about it, Ms. Warner?”</p><p>Blair shook her head, barely hanging on to her emotions. “No, I never saw Jo after the blowout with her parents. She left me a phone message saying she'd be at her parents that entire week, dealing with some issues, but would be home the following weekend. That Friday, I received a letter in the mail...informing me that she had left for good.” A few tears slipped out of Blair's eyes.</p><p>“But why didn't she come to you, or even your former Housemother at Eastland.”</p><p>Blair took a calming breath, but the hurt on her face was easy to see. “She told me that she could no longer live with me because, as she had told her parents-had apparently told them two years earlier, in fact, and that very week-that she had fallen in love with me, and with everything going on, it was just too much for her to live with me, knowing she was in love with me, and believing I couldn't reciprocate those feelings.”</p><p>“Ms. Warner”, the journalist said kindly, “if you could give Jo one message, if by some miracle she sees that, what would it be?”</p><p>Blair looked directly at the camera, for once in her life, not caring that she looked less-than-perfect, as her eyes were red, tear stains on her flushed cheeks. “I'd tell her this: Jo, no matter what, I am always your best friend, and I love you with all my heart. We all miss you, and still want you to be in our lives. Please, Jo”, she concluded, wiping her eyes, “come home to us. Come home to me.”</p><p>The camera faded to black, and the program went to commercials.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Five Months Later, San Diego</p><p> </p><p>For once, Jo Polniaczek, her hair an almost rusty red color now, and still short, had remained in one place for a while. San Diego's weather kept her from burning up in the summer, as had happened in Phoenix once, or numb with cold, like in Denver. Yet other than the weather, the young woman who, at one time, had so much promise, and so many possibilities, was continuing to waste away. Drinking and drug use had left her emaciated, and void of the <em>joie de vivre </em>that she had discovered in far-away Peekskill, New York.</p><p>She was becoming more despondent by the day, not seeing any way to shake her abuse of drink and substance. Unfortunately, she hadn't seen or heard any of the stories nationwide that had focused on homelessness, especially for younger LGBT people, who, like Jo, had been literally disowned by their families, or had run away simply because of their sexual orientation. Had she seen it, it might have given her the strength to, perhaps, return to her roots, and try to salvage her life.</p><p>It was an unusually hot day in San Diego-nothing like Phoenix could get, but it was in the low nineties, which was scorching for the area. She had found some shade under a palm tree in one of the numerous city parks, blessedly drinking a cold water that she had bought at a local convenience store. Yet even with the bottle of water, she had a fifth of booze with her-her standard which was now whiskey. And, as usual, she had a small stash of heroin.</p><p>The park was busy this Saturday afternoon, with families and young lovers making up a large part of the scenery in front of her. Despite her own desperate situation, she had to smile, as it had been rare over the past five-plus years to see so many happy faces. She was partially hidden by a clump of bushes that lay near the Palm tree cluster, and the irony of her pulling out her needle and shooting up in the middle of such a placid scene didn't cross her mind.</p><p>She felt the first rush, as she had on so many occasions, going out of focus for a short time, but the pleasurable feeling followed. She took a swig of her cold water, deciding to rise and head over to an even shadier area not too far away.</p><p>As she walked over the soft grass in her bare feet-her shoes in her old backpack, along with the booze, she crossed paths with some teenagers with baseball mitts, throwing a ball back and forth while shooting the breeze. She caught sight of two young parents, sitting on a bench in the shade, holding their infant child, dressed in blue, so Jo believing it was a boy. The scenes, combined with the euphoria of the heroin, had her feeling as if she had no problems in the world.</p><p>Halfway to the shady area she had picked for her destination, Jo suddenly began having trouble breathing, her breaths coming in gasps, her mouth running dry. She could feel the prickles on her scalp, and her skin becoming clammy. Despite her sudden disorientation, Jo Polniaczek knew she had OD'd on the opioid, panic beginning to set in.</p><p>Before she even had the chance to raise the alarm to those nearby, Jo's eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fell in a heap into the grass.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Forty Minutes Later</p><p> </p><p>The physician on call at the UC San Diego Health-Jacobs Medical Center had seen images like this before: the classic signs of heroin overdose. The pale skin, the blue lips, the rapid heartbeat and breathing. Fortunately, this patient just brought in was still alive. Many who came in never made it in alive.</p><p>IV's were set up, the nurses noticing the multiple needle marks in the arm of the young woman. An oxygen mask was placed over the mouth and nose, to try and steady her breathing, as they tried to stabilize the patient.</p><p>There was no identification in the backpack that had arrived with the stricken individual, just a bottle of water, an almost-empty fifth of whiskey, and the syringe, needles, and small vials of what was obviously heroin. The efforts to stabilize the woman seemed to be proceeding nicely.</p><p>At one point, the nurse noticed the eyes of the patient fluttering open, confusion reigning in the face of the rapidly-wakening woman. The woman looked around frantically, trying to piece together what was going on.”</p><p>The physician, Dr. Robert Walk, bent down to address the patient. “Miss, I'm Dr. Walk. You're in the hospital, and you've suffered from an apparent heroin overdose. Do you understand me?”</p><p>The woman nodded, her eyes still darting around the room.</p><p>“Miss, there is no ID on you, or with your belongings. Can you tell me your name?”</p><p>Jo was conscious, but her head and mind were swimming. She did understand the question, but she was still in a slightly different reality, as it were, than the others. With all the confusion, she didn't even realize what she said next.</p><p>“Jo...Joanna Polniaczek”, she squeaked out. She hadn't said, or even thought of her own name, in several years.</p><p>“Jo”, the doctor said with a kind voice, “your vitals are improving, but if would not hurt you if you tried to get some sleep, even with this noise? Do you understand?”</p><p>She nodded, and, despite the insanity around her, she did drift off to sleep.</p><p>As she entered sleep, one of the nurses came up to Dr. Walk. “I'm sorry, Doctor, but what did that young woman say her name was?”</p><p>“Jo Pol-nia-chek, I think she said. Why?”</p><p>“That name sounds damn familiar, Doctor, but I can't place it. Where do I know that name from.”</p><p>“If you figure it out, Gretchen”, the physician advised her, “let me know. We have nothing to go on right now.”</p><p>Within an hour, Jo was stable, and had been taken to a recovery area in the ER. She would be transferred up to ICU shortly. The Emergency Room she had been admitted to was being cleaned up, Dr. Walk getting ready to type his notes in the hospital's computer system. As he was going over the information that had been gleaned when the woman was admitted, the nurse Gretchen startled him.</p><p>“<em>Son of a bitch!</em>”</p><p>“What is it, Gretchen? You remember something?”</p><p>“I think I know where I've heard that name, Doctor”, she said, excited with the flush of discovery. “You remember that series of stories that the <em>L.A Times, </em>other newspapers, and <em>CNN</em> did on the homeless crisis?”</p><p>He didn't beat around the bush. “You think that's where you remember her name from?”</p><p>“Yeah, I believe I do. I think her name was actually mentioned in one of the stories.”</p><p>Without answering the nurse, Dr. Walk picked up the phone and dialed the hospital security office. He asked them to contact the San Diego Police Department. He gave Security the best spelling he could for the patient as he could, and wanted to see if there was any kind of hit in the national database.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Later That Evening, Manhattan</p><p> </p><p>Blair had put in some long hours the past week at Warner International. Although a Vice-President, and because of her lineage in the company, she worked as hard, if not harder than anyone else in her department. She worked her people hard, but she also rewarded them for their hard work, having pizza Friday's, or an occasional dinner or get-together for those who worked for her. Despite being the CEO's daughter, those working in the Finance department at Warner Tower loved Blair, loved her passion and her commitment to the company.</p><p>She didn't socialize much outside of work, except when it came to matters of Warner International. She would see Dorothy and Mrs. Garrett occasionally, talk to them and Natalie at least once a week on the phone, but other than that, her job was her life. It helped her to keep her mind off of other things.</p><p>She had gone into her office late Saturday afternoon, to check up on a few issues that would be brewing the next week, then was going to head home and relax for the night. As Blair was closing up shop, her office phone rang. The Caller ID indicated that it was her father. A smile lit up her face.</p><p>“Hey, Daddy, how come you didn't call me on my cell?”</p><p>David's voice was hard and tight. “You have it turned off or the battery has run down Princess. I've been trying to get in touch with you for the last half hour on it.”</p><p>The sound of his voice alarmed Blair immediately. “Daddy, is something wrong?” Blair was now back in her chair in her office.</p><p>“Honey, I just heard from Dennis Levine. The NYPD contacted him about forty-five minutes ago.” He paused for a moment to calm himself. “Jo's been found, and she's alive.”</p><p> </p><p>To Be Continued in <em>Hold ON, </em>Part 2 of the<em> Facts Of Life: Fire and Rain</em> series</p>
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